Laughter in the Distance
by Daughter.of.Despair
Summary: "It used to be just a game." Gaara is a teenager with odd habits. Neji a businesstycoon-to-be, perched high on his pedestal. Chance brings them together, but where will they go? -And who will take the lead? Main: NejiGaa. Neji/Gaara AU Mature content. Slash.
1. A little piece of heaven

**Disclaimer: I do not, will not, have never, and shall never own _Naruto_. Nuff said.  
**

**Fair WARNING: Rated M. (Meaning mature content. Like- sex, drugs, cigarettes, alcohol and bad language.) Yaoi. (Meaning men sleeping with men) Possibly Yuri and good ol' hetero too.**

**Pairings: Neji/Gaara**

**Chapter 1 Note: No sex in this chapter.**

**A/N: Well, time for a new pet-project then. On you go.**

* * *

The clouds were hazy in the darkness, illuminated against the night skies like slivers of dark blue silk. He stared at them, the smoke from his cigarette slowly wafting past his hand and into the summer breeze. Quiet. The sort of stillness that only appeared in the deep night and the wee hours of morning, when all human presences were gone, slumbering at the edges of his mind, safe in their beds, in their homes and in the soft lull of their ordinary lives.

He had always loved the tranquillity of the night, even as a child when he was not allowed out any later than pre-evening he'd grab any opportunity to be embraced by the soothing darkness, the void of human buzz. In summer, like now, he made a habit of nocturnal wanderings, speculating life, pondering his own. Mid-June, when the sun was nearly ever-present, disappearing from the skies only an hour or two at midnight, and the sunrise lasted from the middle of the night to the time when families woke, made coffee and toast and went off to work. This was the time of year he spent in the depths of his mind.

Still, even a thinker like himself must sleep- albeit very little, and he put out his cigarette and headed home through the silent neighbourhood. He was still locked in thought, reoccurring questions assaulting his mind._ 'Who am I really?'_ The question, the one he'd believed he'd found the answer to time and time again, and yet it was unanswered each time he questioned himself on it again.

The facts were simple. He was Sabaku Gaara. He was 19 years of age. His parents were dead- his mother at his birth, his father a few years back. He lived with his older siblings Temari and Kankurou in a medium-sized house in the city of Konohagakure. He had just finished highschool –not even two weeks ago –and had decided to take a year off before university. He had no idea what he wanted to study, but he was fairly intelligent. He had friends…

His steps faltered in front of his house. The lights were off, Temari and Kankurou surely asleep in their beds. Temari had work in the morning and Kankurou –home for summer break –was an early sleeper.

'_Still no answer I suppose…'_

It wasn't a question he pondered consequently, but rather one that appeared in the lonely hours of the night when his otherwise preoccupied mind was free to bring forth and analyse whatever it pleased. He sighed, pulling the stray threads of his conscious into organized slots in his head, and pulled himself back into the role of the normal teenager –which he in all honesty actually was. He had to get some sleep –he'd promised Naruto to meet up tomorrow. And his room still needed cleaning…

* * *

Uzumaki Naruto was a social tornado with a personality as colourful as his clothing. He was the centre of attention at every party, gathering or accidental chat at the bus-stop, the main prankster in their old school and known to have the loudest mouth north of the equator. He was also Gaara's best friend.

Many had questioned their friendship over the years, finding it humorous that such opposites would form an unyielding combo. The bright, energetic Naruto with his blonde hair, blue eyes and athletic body next to the dark Gaara, always dressed in blacks or greys with pale skin and eyes rimmed with kohl. He wasn't the athletic type either, or the sociable type. He was slightly on the thin side, and whereas Naruto's eyes were warm and full of laughter his own were a cold aquamarine colour, constantly on watchful guard against anyone he met.

He _did_ have striking looks, not the naturally appealing ones that Naruto had, but an exotic _oddness_ that derived from his scarlet hair –accented by his light skin and the blood-red tattoo on his forehead –his heavy eyeliner and the piercing in his nearly non-existent left eyebrow. But it was usually overlooked after first introductions since by then, Naruto's natural charm had everyone captured.

_Point Place_ was their favourite café, located in the crossing of Leaf Lane and Shimmer Street. It was nestled in the arms of small second-hand stores and unique boutiques, each leading onto the cobbled streets of east end -the old university district. It was perfect for charismatic students with limited funds. He entered, easily spotting his blonde friend by one of the street-view windows on the left. Naruto was deeply in conversation with the table's other occupant, laughing and making wide hand-gestures, surely telling another one of his incredulous stories. The blonde had changed a lot during the last three years, Gaara observed. He'd grown from a slightly obnoxious boy to a secure nearly-man. But then again, Gaara had probably changed a lot more since their fated first encounter.

"_He went to my middle-school", the brunette girl confided to the table. Everyone was listening with rapt attention, any kind of information on the other students were highly sought-after when trying to make a place for themselves at this new school. Gaara felt slightly lost, he had no idea what-so-ever of how he had ended up eating lunch with these people. Normally he would eat alone, walk alone, be alone. He figured it was one of those mistakes people do in environments with only new people –inviting him. "He's really annoying!", the girl continued, "everyone thought so. I don't think he had any friends. He's really loud and stupid, and he actually got into a fistfight…" _

_Gaara looked over to where the subject of the conversation was sitting. He _did _seem loud and annoying. His brilliantly blonde hair clashed terribly with his orange T-shirt and he was talking constantly to the boy opposite him while trying to eat his large serving of what looked like ramen simultaneously. The result wasn't pretty._

"_He's disgusting, look at how he eats", another of the girls said in a hushed voice, which was completely unnecessary since the boy was well outside hearing-distance. Gaara's interest waned away from the discussion and the boy and he settled for staring out the window while absently poking the lonely potato on his plate with the tip of his fork._

"…_than that?" it took him a moment to realise he was being addressed, and that the teens around the table had stopped badmouthing the blonde and were now all looking expectantly at him._

"_Hm?", he said absent-mindedly. Two of the boys exchanged a look._

"_I asked if you weren't going to eat any more than that?", it was the talkative brunette girl and she was pointing at his rather lonesome potato. He raised his two nearly-invisible eyebrows._

"_No."_

_They hadn't invited Gaara to lunch again._

He slid down on the empty seat and placed his steaming cup on the table. He didn't greet them, but simply took a careful sip of coffee and waited for Naruto's over-excessive hello's to come to an end. They did, and Naruto continued talking where he left off with the third member of the table, the girl nodding along politely.

Haruno Sakura had been Naruto's first crush, before he realised he wasn't quite inclined towards the opposite sex. It had all taken place in middle-school so Gaara didn't know the specific details but it wasn't until last year that the two had become friends, and in Gaara's case she was still an acquaintance at best. She had attended a different school than them and was known for her academic brilliance; however she wasn't interesting enough to keep Gaara's attention for long.

'_I hope he hasn't invited everyone he knows… but knowing Naruto, he probably has'_

As much as he loved his best friend, it still bothered him that the blonde was such a people-person. Time alone was a rarity to be cherished, and perhaps something that he'd gotten too used to during their time in highschool. When they first met Naruto had had scarce friends, all of whom went to different schools than theirs. Oh, how thing change with time… and still, it was nothing short of a miracle that the two of them had become friends in the first place. A very specific miracle that he'd nicknamed 'the unnatural stubbornness of Uzumaki Naruto'.

"_Hello." The voice drifted down on him from somewhere above, but he didn't react. Two weeks into term the rest of the class had already discovered that he was not approachable –helped out by the rumours seeping from 'anonymous' sources whom had attended his middleschool. No-one ever made the effort to speak to him anymore and hence, he didn't have to bother with listening to greetings. They were never directed at him._

"_Can I sit here?" Gaara's senses told him the voice was too close to be coming from a nearby table, strange._

"_I'll just take that as a yes then", the chair opposite him… moved. He raised his gaze for the first time and found two orbs of bright blue staring back at him, "I'm Naruto, I don't think we've ever been introduced. You're Gaara right?" Naruto looked at Gaara. Gaara looked at Naruto. Gaara went back to his food. Naruto kept talking._

_Naruto sat at his table every day after that._

If it was something that truly had amazed Gaara back then, it was that Naruto had seemingly no problem keeping a conversation running all by himself. As the weeks went by, he even started interpreting Gaara's occasional grunt as actual speech, as if talking to a dog where you answer questions that were never asked since they're not posed in an understandable language.

The door to the café opened and another five of Naruto's jolly gang entered, making their way over to them. Another table was pulled up to join the first and chairs were found for each of the arrivals. Soon, Gaara was in middle of a small social circus of talk, jokes, gossip and bickering –and in the middle of it all was Naruto. Like the sun surrounded by six little rays he participated in every part of the social game. He quarrelled with Kiba, mock-flirted with Ino, made fun of Shikamaru's lazy nature, gave Chouji recommendations on a new restaurant and listened attentively when Shino told them about the cockroach-infestation that had struck his family's house –though in all fairness: even Gaara listened intently to that since the main problem for Shino wasn't that bugs lived in house –and in his food cabinets –but that his family wanted to get rid of them. Apparently he'd formed some sort of affection for the creatures.

Seeing Naruto in his element was always intriguing, but –even though it was hard for him to admit –it also made him a little bit jealous. Since it was _always _Naruto; he was the one who got invited to things, he was the one people asked for and talked to, he was the one people missed when he wasn't there, whilst Gaara was always the tag-along or at best the replacement. Not that he wanted the kind of attention that Naruto had –he'd probably combust into absolute autism if he was ever subjected to it –but sometimes he felt as if his only real friend was Naruto, and that he was completely dependent on him alone. It was a very unsettling feeling.

However, Naruto being the most sought-after by his friends wasn't the big issue. The real reason why his annoyance had increased towards the blonde lately –a reason that he felt so ashamed of he barely admitted it to himself –was that Naruto was just _too damn attractive_. He'd felt a twinge of jealousy ever since the first time Naruto pointed out one of his ex-boyfriends in their first year. And it had grown whilst he was being pointedly ignorant about it. Naruto was always surrounded by boys making passes at him, and –naturally –he always talked to and confided in his best friend on the matter. It had bothered him before, but after _that_ incident it had finally become too great a feeling for him to ignore any longer.

_Konohagakure's nightlife was in full swing. It was Friday night; the clubs were full, youngsters from all over the city milling about in the streets in various stages of drunkenness and Gaara, Naruto and their friends were out celebrating that they'd passed the second of three chemistry exams in their senior year. Their club for the evening, Hachibi, was packed, and the group was fairly tipsy after one drink too many._

_He had gone outside at the same time as Gaara to have a smoke, and had asked to borrow his lighter. He was tall and lean; his shoulder-length hair bleached white and pulled back slightly from his face. With one word: he looked _good.

_It was rare for someone to catch Gaara's interest, and even rarer for them to be gay, single, and willing to chat with him. He found himself thinking that maybe tonight wouldn't be a waste after all… They'd moved to one of the tables inside. Talking was nearly impossible with the music blaring from enormous speakers, but they tried. Everything was… better than expected. The man –Kimimaro –was 21 and a nice mix of sarcasm and humor. Gaara, finishing his drink, was just about to suggest that they'd go dance when Kimimaro's eyes flickered from Gaara's face to something past his right shoulder. Turning around, the redhead got an armful of his best friend._

_Naruto was drunk, happy and more flirtatious than usual. Needless to say, it took about 30 seconds for Kimimaro's attention to stray completely from the thin Gaara to the increasingly sexy Naruto. Soon enough the two of them disappeared through the sea of people, leaving Gaara all alone._

The evening had ended badly –for Gaara. And Naruto pestering him the following weeks about how Kimimaro wouldn't stop texting didn't help the slightest. And so the feeling of jealousy, which in itself somehow sprung from his own insecurities, had become a constant sharp edge in his relationship with Naruto.

It took them two hours to finish at the café, and when the large group parted ways it was with promises of meeting up later and hit the clubs. On the bus home, Gaara thought about bailing on a night out and spend the evening at home instead. But then he realised he hadn't really done anything worthwhile since graduation and decided to brave up and go.

* * *

"Can't we try to get into _Jinchuuriki_ tonight?" It was late evening early night and the small troop was perched on different chairs and sofas in Ino's huge living room, discussing where to go for the night.

"Come on Ino, there's just no way we'll get in there", Sakura sighed, twirling a cider bottle in her dainty little hand, "can't we just go to _Yondaime_ or something?"

"Nah, I think Ino has a point, let's at least _try _to go somewhere new, right Naruto?" Kiba intervened, already a bit hazy in the eyes from one beer to many. Naruto scratched the back of his head, an old habit.

"As much as I hate to admit it, I'll have to agree with the mad mutt." Kiba bristled.

"Hey! What did you call me, shit-for-brains?"

"Dogman."

"Idiot."

"Moron."

"That's enough", Sakura chided, "everyone alright with going to _Jinchuuriki?_" everyone nodded. Ino smiled triumphantly.

"_Jinchuuriki _it is."

* * *

"There is no way we're ever getting in…"

Gaara had heard Naruto's sullen comment even from a distance as he walked away. He'd left the rest of the crowd to have a smoke, leaning against the shadowy wall opposite of the wide street from the club. The sidewalk on the other side was cramped, but his side was quite empty since the cars stopped people from passing in larger quantities. He took another long drag from his cigarette, why were they even here? He could think of a million places he'd rather be at half past twelve on a Friday evening than waiting in a line that only grew outside the most exclusive club in town.

Speaking of exclusive, a sleek, black Shukaku111 –the latest model –had just pulled up on his side of the street. He watched in half-interest as it emitted three figures into the night. His eyes widened a fraction when they were illuminated below one of the streetlamps. Three exquisite examples of perfection. He might not have been an artist, but he appreciated the fine arts and he was quite certain that these three men were the wet dream of any painter, photographer, writer, poet, musician, dancer… or just any human on the planet. Two of them –at first he though they were twins but at closer inspection he found they must be brothers –had jet-black hair and eyes, the older wore a red button-down shirt and black slacks –he looked too formal for a club and yet it suited him perfectly –while the younger wore sinfully tight black jeans and a long-sleeved grey shirt. The third man's hair flowed past his shoulder and down his back –it was lighter, a rich brown that was accentuated by the lamplight, and his eyes –from a distance they seemed colourless but Gaara supposed they must be very light. He too, was wearing jeans, but the material of his cream-coloured shirt seemed nearly translucent. For his life, Gaara couldn't have named the fabric. All of them shared the same kind of finely chiselled, aristocratic faces; unblemished and strikingly handsome.

They turned and walked in his direction, searching for a suitable place to cross the road. He avoided looking at them, simply staring straight ahead and focusing on his cigarette –he'd be damned if he was found gawking at strangers on the street. It wasn't until he'd let them pass that he realised they hadn't. Three images of perfection stood only a few metres away from him and against better judgement he glanced their way.

And met the gaze of swirling mercury eyes.

'_Shit'_

He'd been caught glancing. But- didn't that mean the brunette had looked at him too? This wasn't the time to think about such things though; their eye-contact was yet to be broken. With all the cold indifference he could muster, he raised a single, not-really-there eyebrow at the man. Mercury eyes gleamed in the neon lights from the club, and the brunette's lips twisted upwards in a smirk.

"Are you coming Neji?", the younger of the ravens drawled at Mercury. Gaara paid him no heed; he couldn't tear his eyes away from the pale orbs. Mercury –Neji apparently –didn't answer. And then suddenly, he was right in front of the redhead, towering above him. Gaara cursed whatever god was up there for being so short and stared defiantly up into the stranger's perfect face. _Neji_ cocked his head ever so slightly to the side –as if he was summarizing him –and then finally spoke, in a melodious slightly deep voice that sent shivers up and down Gaara's spine.

"What's your name, Scarlet?" Gaara weighed his options, he could either tell _Neji_ to shove the nickname 'Scarlet' –one he'd had to put up with for many years –where it belonged; or…

"Gaara." The pale eyes –with a streak of violet in them –looked humoured.

"Well then, _Gaara_, are you planning to stay here…. or are you coming inside?" it was an invitation, if ever Gaara heard one, and one he wouldn't miss out on. Tossing the end of his cigarette he pushed himself off the wall, his face as cold and expressionless as he could make it. Neji simply turned to his companions, nodding once.

"I'm Neji", he said, "that's Itachi and Sasuke." As they crossed the street, Gaara glanced down the queue but couldn't spot his friends anywhere. The odds that they'd gotten in were… dismal. So, either they were further down the line or they had left. He checked his phone right as they reached the guards.

_New message From: Naruto.  
Gaara. Couldn't find U. heading off to Hachibi, come there when U get my mssg k?_

_New message From: Naruto.  
Change of plans; Yondaime._

_New message From: Naruto.  
Gaara? _

Busy with reading the messages from Naruto he didn't pay any attention to the word-exchange between the guards and his newly found companions, but suddenly they were showed into the club, free of charge. He typed a quick message on his phone before putting it away in his back pocket where it wouldn't bother him more for the night.

_New message To: Naruto._  
_I'm fine. Won't be coming to Yondaime. See you tomorrow._

* * *

The music was insanely loud, the bodies of the Konoha elite and a few lucky commoners filling the space to the point where you couldn't move without grinding against one another. As they made their way over to the bar the brothers disappeared, the younger sending Neji a glance and a smirk as he vanished in to the mass of bodies. It made Gaara uncomfortable, as if he was a joke between the two of them –which, thinking about it, he probably was.

He couldn't care less though –he was in the most sought-after club in the city with a man who was easily the most beautiful and graceful creature he'd ever seen. Something in the way the elbow-long hair swayed and gleamed in the multi-coloured lights, and how he moved through the masses miraculously not touching any of the passing people drew Gaara in, as a moth to a flame.

They reached the bar, Neji leaning over and ordering for them both. As the bartender handed them their drinks –surprisingly giving Gaara his favourite drink _Gin & Tonic_ –the redhead leaned close enough to be heard and scathingly told his new… _acquaintance_:

"I can buy my own drinks." Neji's eyes –so very close now that he had leaned in –glimmered in the foggy darkness of the club.

"Can is not equivalent to should- or will", the brunette answered smugly. Gaara glowered at him. They were still close –neither of them had moved from the close position even though they weren't speaking, just quietly drinking the alcohol. Neji never broke eye-contact, sensing a challenge, Gaara didn't either. He regarded the older man –for Neji seemed to be twenty-something –trying to find the reason he felt slightly uncomfortable in the man's presence.

Neji was tall, athletic –though his muscles were lean rather than pumped up –and incredibly beautiful. But that wasn't what drew him in. Neji had a lure- some sort of natural pull which could never have been imitated –his very movements seemed to draw Gaara closer. A tip of a finger moving against the glass now empty of whisky –a husky voice telling the bartender to refill their drinks –a never-ceasing stare. And still there was something underneath. The charm, the pull, the voice and actions were all simply the first layer. In the back of Gaara's mind, a small bell went off –a bell he only ever heard when he was in real trouble and which had never –_ever_ –been wrong.

This man was dangerous. Not homicidal-maniac dangerous. Simply… a powerful, intelligent man with a very limited conscience. He narrowed his eyes, assessing the brunette closely to make sure he had it right. Neji smirked confidently.

'_Yes. He's dangerous. The question is –does it bother me?'_

He searched himself, knowing full well that this man was the kind his sister would have warned him not to get close to. However, he felt no apprehension, instead a thrill passed through his mind and body, sending shivers down his limbs. Playing with fire was oh-so enthralling. Neji leaned even closer, until warm breath encircled his ear and seductively hushed words fell from perfectly shaped lips:

"Dance with me Scarlet."

Before he had the chance to protest his detested nickname, nimble fingers had closed around his arm, pulling him through the crowd to the dancefloor.

* * *

"Gaara hasn't been himself lately", Naruto said worriedly to the boy on his right while checking the text he'd gotten earlier, "he's more closed in, like he used to be."

"Maybe he just needs some space", Kiba replied, sipping beer from the bottle in his right hand while waving the left at Naruto in an off-handed manned, "even I get tired of you sometimes and Gaara isn't exactly the sociable type."

"Still though…" Naruto was worried. His friend could be antisocial at times but lately he'd grown more distant.

'_Oh well.'_ He shook himself, physically trying to get rid of the gloomy feeling, _'I'll talk to him tomorrow'_. He caught Kiba's not-too-subtle nudge in the ribs and looked up and across to the other side of the bar. The man looked to be in his twenties, well-toned and fairly good-looking. He smiled. _'For now, I'll just enjoy the evening. I'll worry about Gaara tomorrow…'_

* * *

Fast beat –throbbing through his limbs –sweaty bodies –pressed up against him from every angle –the music was coursing like liquid fire through his veins, eyes closed and mouth slightly parted. Gaara had never danced like this in his entire life. The alcohol made lines fade in his vision and the only thing he could see clearly, standing out against the blurry background, was Neji.

He felt the brunette's hands run down his sides, Neji danced so sensually it _had _to be illegal in several countries. Perfect lips touched the shell of his ear but he barely heard the words:

"_Your phone"_

Suddenly aware of the vibration in his back-pocket –and that the reason Neji had felt it was that the brunette's hands had moved to cover his ass –he fished it up. The caller ID flashed across the screen:

_Kiba_

One of his drunken calls –he tended to call anyone not present when he had enough alcohol in his system.

"Anything important?" the voice was soft as silk yet rough as raw skin, the mix was intoxicating. He shook his head and moved to cancel the call only to have his phone taken from his hands by swift fingers. Startled even in his elated state, he watched as Neji's nimble fingers worked his phone shortly before handing it back, turned off. Before he had time to consider it, arms encircled his waist and drew him close.

His breath hitched, heat spreading in his body. Dark chocolate strands fell across his shoulders and fierce lips claimed his own. A talented tongue slipped into his mouth, exploring every inch, tracing his tongue. It became an intense battle, teeth clashing, tongues wrestling. Hands in his hair, flesh beneath his palms, flashing lights, blaring music.

Neji's hand slipped from his hair to settle on his backside once more, his wicked tongue working Gaara to a mindless mess. Then suddenly the mouth had moved to his neck, sucking and biting. He let his head fall to the side to give the brunette better access, meanwhile running his own hand higher to grip Neji's hair by the root and pull him closer. The man finished marking him and Gaara caught a smug smirk on his face right before his lips were assaulted once more.

The beat wasn't the music of a club anymore –it was the beat of his heart –and the heat wasn't sweat and hot June weather –it was the heat of his arousal –and the lights weren't multi-coloured anymore –they were mercury…

* * *

It felt like someone had banged his head in the wall.

'_I'm never drinking alcohol again in my life.'_**(1)**

He rolled out of bed, violently silencing his alarm clock, and shuffled into the bathroom to take a shower. Standing under the spray of heated water he let his hands run across the bruised flesh of his neck. The pain sent a flash of memories from the night before to the front of his brain. God only knew how long the two of them had been on the dancefloor, but in the end the man named Sasuke had turned up and whispered something in Neji's ear. After a quick nod from the brunette all of them had been heading for the exit.

His memories were a bit fuzzy from too much alcohol and lack of sleep, but he remembered being led to the sleek car by Neji's hands on his hips. He might have fallen asleep in the car, but he must have told Neji his address for they had let dropped him outside his house and he'd stumbled in through the front door at 4-something AM.

He entered the kitchen for a quick glass of water and some aspirin before he had to leave to meet his friends. Temari had left him a note on the fridge, he read it absently while gulfing down two glasses of ice-cold water.

_Gaara_

_Hope you had fun last night.  
Kankurou is taking his friend's shift over at Hashirama. He'll be back late.  
There's food in the fridge._

_Temari_

So both of them were out of the house, maybe he could even get some sleep. But first he had to head off to _Point Place _for the regular morning-after breakfast.

* * *

When he entered the small café shortly after nine o'clock in the morning, he found that all of the others had already gathered around one of the larger tables in the left corner. He ordered his coffee and walked over, intent to occupy the last empty chair and stay nauseous and quiet for at least half an hour. But to his surprise, the entire table –even Shikamaru –turned to stare at him as he arrived. No greetings, just wide-eyes stares. He cocked a thin eyebrow and plopped down on the seat. Ino cracked, like a piñata. Her face went from shocked to livid and excited in a heartbeat and she flew up from her own chair, banging her hands palm-first on the table.

"**You got in to Jinchuuriki**?" her voice was unusually loud even for her, yet what bothered him was…

"How do you know that?" the answer came flying to him across the table. It was a copy of _Shinobi _–Konoha's daily paper. It was flung open on the entertainment section –a section that today was completely dominated by a huge photo of Neji and himself –tightly wound together in a heated making-out session on the dancefloor.

_Hyuuga Neji –Off the Market and Into the Red Zone?_

_Hyuuga Neji, rating in the top-ten most sought-after bachelors in the country, was seen being very intimate with an unknown redheaded youngster at _Jinchuuriki _nightclub yesterday evening. Reports say they arrived together and after quite the kissing frenzy on the dance floor they were also seen leaving the club in each-other's company. Hyuuga is known to be quite keen on one-night stands but very discreet at all times. Speculations has therefore risen about whether or not this pale young man is actually Hyuuga's special someone… continuing on Page 14, 17 and 18._

Gaara was speechless. _Hyuuga Neji._ Heir of the international multi-billion _Hyuuga Corp. _distant relation to _Uchiha Itachi _and _Uchiha Sasuke_ –heirs to the equally loaded and prestigious _Uchiha Corp. _it all made sense. And still –it was completely unbelievable.

"You went home with _Hyuuga Neji_?"

His memory couldn't identify the owner of the voice, even though he knew it well. There was a buzzing in his ears and it seemed his thoughts had suddenly sped up and was racing around in his mind, bumping every wall and yet coming to no conclusions. _'I'm having a shutdown', _he realised, _'I have too many thoughts and emotions… __**Focus**__.'_ He focused on the headline of the paper, reading it instead of staring apathetically at it. His mind seemed to have reached its breaking point and moved from unhinged panic to a chilly calm that spread through his limbs. He looked up to face his friends –his mind now perfectly clear and distanced from the terror that was raining down on him –and shook his head.

"I didn't. He- they dropped me off at home."

"_They_?" He'd never seen Ino so… he couldn't quite pinpoint what mood she was in –exalted or despairing.

"Him and his friends…" he glanced at the newspaper again, "the Uchiha's I suppose."

* * *

More than one hour had passed since Gaara set foot in the café and yet, the questions would never cease. Everyone, it seemed, was interested in his _magical _night. Even the waitress. He rubbed his temples; he just wanted to go home!

"Hey guys", He glanced up at Naruto, who had been unusually quiet until then, "leave him alone would you? He had one hell of a night and deserved some sleep." Gaara nodded and smiled thankfully at his blonde friend. Naruto had seemed… low all morning. Almost depressed. _'I should probably talk to him…'_

He extricated himself and his best friend from the gossipmongers and left the café. They started towards the bus-stop on the next block in silence. Naruto stared at his feet, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Gaara decided, for once, that he should begin the conversation:

"Thank you."

"No prob." The answer came instantly, like Naruto had been waiting to say it. They fell silent again for a few minutes.

"I mean," Naruto said, staring ahead at nothing, "It's not like you got married without telling us. You got lucky 's all." Gaara was starting to get irritated; Naruto sounded… arrogant. Condescending. His friend suddenly stopped, turning to face him:

"'Cuz you don't think it's any more than that do you? It was a one-time snog and he's a rich bastard. He's forgotten you already." Gaara knew it was the truth, but having it thrown in his face with harsh words wasn't what he expected from his best friend. To Hyuuga and his friends he was fun game for one night, and the Hyuuga genius was in the paper constantly, he wouldn't care about that.

"I know that." He answered curtly, staring into the usually warm blue eyes.

"I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"I won't"

* * *

Gaara, Naruto and their friends had all attended West Konoha High, and lived in the same area –a wide number of blocks with everything from large houses for the wealthy to tall buildings filled with identical, small apartments for the less fortunate. Naruto lived with his adoptive father, Iruka, in an apartment over at _Kage Columns_. The neighbourhood was nice and they had a view of the monument from their kitchen window. Still, Naruto often complained that he would rather live in a real house –Gaara usually then reminded him that it took the redhead 20 more minutes to get into the city since his block lay on the outskirts of the city. Gaara's entire block was filled with middleclass businessmen and women with small children they had no time for. It was 30 minutes to central Konoha by bus and 20 by car and an _'ideal place to raise children'_ what with its lush gardens and safe playgrounds. Of course, more desirable areas existed. On the northern side of the _Kage Columns' Hill_ the houses and apartment complexes gave way to large manors with enough rooms to accommodate a small circus. Here lived both Ino and Chouji with credit to the good business of Akimichi Kitchen (Restaurant, server and take-away!) and Yamanaka Flowers (Weddings, Dates, Funerals and Table-decorations. We have flowers for every occasion!). _North Hill _was the most prestigious quarter in West Konoha. More expensive lodging only existed on _Kage Mountain_ itself –exclusive villas and the occasional castle for the ludicrously wealthy climbed the slopes all the way to the infamous monument, reserving North Konoha and the North high school for the most prominent in the city. The prices of these mansions were topped only by a few selected penthouses in downtown Konoha.

So when Naruto had jumped off at his stop Gaara still had twenty minutes to go before reaching his. Usually he cherished the extra time to think but today he simply felt… empty. His little adventure the night before had gone severely out of hand and it wasn't all due to the picture in the papers. Naruto seemed distant and unfriendly and –well downright mean. Sighing, he leaned his head against the window, watching the trees and houses outside flash by without really seeing them. _'Perhaps Naruto's just upset I didn't tell him yesterday? That he had to find out from a paper… but that's hardly my fault! It's not like I wanted to have my face printed in the daily news.'_

A slight buzzing alerted him to his phone –securely stuffed in the right front pocket of his jeans. He dug it out, staring at the name flashing on the screen.

_New message From: H. Neji_

_Coffee today at 16:00? Akatsuki café.  
- Neji._

It was one of those moments when time slows down and then speeds up –Gaara couldn't stop gawking at the message, somehow believing that if he looked away it would disappear.

'_How the hell did he get my number? And… why do I have his? And… why would he want to have coffee with me?' _

* * *

It was _15:47 _and Gaara stood outside Akatsuki Café by the river in south-east Konoha. His palms were sweating; his entire body on high-tension alert and his eyes scanned the door for the seventh time –wondering whether he should go in or not.

He'd thought things through all day –weighed all possibilities against one another and arrived at the most logical conclusion for this –this _get-together_. Obviously Hyuuga wanted to discuss the article –get the facts straight –and make sure Gaara didn't get any ideas. This was the most plausible explanation. And yet, Gaara had taken another shower, dressed in well-fitted grey jeans and his favourite loose, wide-necked black t-shirt, fixed his hair and the slightly-smeared kohl around his eyes and brushed his teeth before leaving. Why? The answer was simple and still it made him uncomfortable.

He wanted to look good. He was madly attracted to the other male and some part of him wished that he had the looks to make the brunette want him the same way. Still, his heart and structured mind warned him of disappointment, loneliness and danger. _'Really. Only my primal instincts actually attracts me to him…'_ though that wasn't entirely true. His mind, the wicked, sly part, enjoyed the challenge, the mind game. The hunt and the dance.

He arranged his facial expression to a cold mask and entered the café. Finding Hyuuga wasn't hard, but during the time it took for his eyes to scan the room and identify the brunette sitting at a window facing the river was enough for his heart rate to double. _'Fuck I'm nervous.'_

Mercury eyes settled on him as he nodded in greeting and slid down on the plush sofa on the opposite side of Hyuuga, careful to keep his movements collected. The cup of tea in front of the other was already half-empty, a sign that he'd been there a while. _'What does that mean? Did he get here early just to see me?'_ Gaara quickly dispelled the thought, he often found himself over-analysing during pressured moments. This, undoubtedly, being one of them. Neji Hyuuga looked even more stunning when sober, his rich dark hair collected in a low pony-tail and his body wrapped in a loose shirt and jeans tight-as-sin. Everything he wore looked casual and still Gaara knew the ensemble probably cost more than his sister made in a month. They stayed quiet, watching one another. Gaara expressionless and the Hyuuga with a small, polite smile that pissed the hell out of the redhead. They'd been down each-other's throats not 24 hours ago, wasn't that enough incentive to skip the pleasantries?

A waitress came sauntering over to their table, taking his order for a coffee –Black. No sugar. No milk. No cream. –and then left them both in –to Gaara –uncomfortable silence. They didn't utter a word even as she returned with the coffee and refilled the brunette's cup with steaming tea. Finally, Gaara had enough and let a scowl replace his impassive look.

"Why did you want to meet me?", he asked impatiently, growing even more agitated as the plastic polite smile only grew.

"Gaara-san, thank you for coming on such short notice", Hyuuga Neji's voice was deep and pleasant and much too nice. Gaara had seen a flash of the danger lurking in this man and yet there was no trace of it in his behaviour today. It could mean only one thing: yet another mask. Had he been less perceptive, and less experienced in the field of manipulation and mind-games, he might've wrote it off as the brunette being drunk the night before. But he wasn't less perceptive, or less experienced, and he didn't take bullshit like this laying down.

"It's Gaara. And drop the nice-guy act would you? It's giving me a headache." He felt a certain twinge of satisfaction as the pleasant, polite mask fell away to reveal cunning eyes and an arrogant –and _oh_ so seductive –smirk.

"Gaara then."

And that was when Gaara realised that he wasn't flirting with danger –he was playing with fire while drenched in gasoline. The brunette shifted slightly in his seat and took another sip from his cup. He seemed content to leave the discussion there and spend the rest of the awkward meeting in silence. Gaara grew more annoyed, and at the same time more excited and more wary. He had never met a man so well-versed in games of the mind. All he did was perfectly calculated –which meant that the silence, the false polite behaviour, the immediate change to arrogance when caught, it was all part of his game. All meant to make Gaara uncomfortable and give him the upper-hand. _'Well.'_ He thought viciously, _'Your game.'_

"If that's all," he said with the tone of someone finishing a business meeting. He stood up to leave. There was a flash in mercury eyes, but what kind he couldn't tell. But he got what he had played for; the brunette spoke again.

"Not finishing your coffee Scarlet?"

It was a game, _a game_, he couldn't get riled up. Instead he just shrugged and turned towards the door. Hyuuga Neji's voice hit him in the movement, hushed and sharp as a blade:

"_Sit_", it was a command. He had to bring up every ounce of pride he had to not obey it. _'We're still playing'_, he reminded himself. So he turned back to face the brunette, one eyebrow arrogantly cocked and a look of polite interest on his features. His mind was split in two, one part yelling and screaming at him for acting up in front of a dangerous man, wanting him to run, or else beg for forgiveness. The other part was cold as ice, calculating his every move and running at ten times the speed it usually did. Adrenaline coursed through his veins –he hadn't played for a long time.

"You had something else you wanted to talk to me about, Hyuuga-san?", he said smoothly. He enjoyed this far too much, to the extent where he couldn't tell if the high came from talking to a beautiful man like Hyuuga, or from riling him up with mind-games of his own. The only thing he knew for sure was that these were his waters, his field, and he wouldn't go down without a fight.

Hyuuga's eyes glittered threateningly and still he saw in them something akin to his own excitement. All players loved the game.

"I did. Sit", Gaara obeyed this time, sliding back into his seat and watching the Hyuuga heir with mock-expectation on his face. The brunette laid his hand to rest, curled up around the teacup, and stared back.

"I assume you have noticed the paper's sudden interest in you by now?", he deadpanned, suddenly straight to business. It felt like a victory, but a small and empty one. He'd been right all along. Hyuuga wanted to talk to him about the articles, the media, the mistake of last night. He had been right, and still, he couldn't help but feel disappointed.

"I have.", he made sure to keep his voice level, even though his insides had taken a deep plunge. This was it, the last time he would see the man. When he had acted like he'd walk away he'd known Hyuuga wouldn't let him, but when the man had said what he wanted, that would be the end of this brief acquaintance. He wasn't even sure what he had been expecting- or rather what he'd been hoping for. He had been afraid to search himself out to find the answer. But he did know now how he felt. As if a huge bucked of ice and crushed dreams had been tipped over his head. _'If it had been Naruto'_, he found himself thinking, _'then things would be different.'_ Bitterness crept up his throat, and then shame for hating his best friend for something that was really his own fault.

"They shouldn't have been able to get in to Jinchuuriki." Gaara only nodded, not meeting the other's eyes. His will to fight had died, the excitement from a moment ago washed away. He felt his icy insides grow heavy –he had to get out.

"Well", he spoke rapidly, wanting to leave. Naruto had warned him, told him he shouldn't put too much into it. Not to get hurt. Naruto who could have anyone he wanted. He felt nauseous. "I won't add to the scandal. If they ask me I'll tell them not to read anything into it and that we have nothing to do with one another." He looked up, refusing to leave without meeting Hyuuga's gaze –he was no bloody rejected school-girl –and finished: "Will that be all Hyuuga-san?"

He had already risen from his seat when the brunette answered.

"No. And the media is of no real consequence. I wouldn't meet with you in person over such small a matter." Gaara froze in the movement. Eyes wide, features wide-open and readable, he stared into the smirking face of Hyuuga Neji. It had been a trick, a diversion to make him weaken his defences. A trap. It hit him like a train, the chill inside him turning colder by terror.

'_I lost.'_

"Dinner tomorrow, I'll pick you up at seven." Hyuuga rose from his seat, ignoring the redhead still rooted to the same spot, he nodded his head in farewell with a smirk on his face. Gaara stared back, unable to make even the slightest movement even as the brunette walked away.

"Oh, and Gaara?", The redhead turned his head to see Hyuuga looking back at him halfway to the door, "My name is Neji."

He walked away, leaving Gaara behind. Neji.

'_I lost.'_

* * *

**A/N: Nee, how's that for a first chapter? I have some serious plotbunnies in this one, and they keep mating with one another too…**

**Now, I know some of you are mighty confused by now, so I'll explain. I've tried to make Gaara as In-C as possible in this story, without ruining the plot. He just strikes me as the type of person who'd be brilliant at mindgames y'know? And that gives him a weapon to use against Neji too- cuz I hate writing about useless girlyboys who gets swept off their feet. A lot of Neji-interaction will be manipulative so if that bothers you- sorry. **

**As for Gaara's personality –no. he's not depressed. This won't be a angst-angstityangst fic. **

**In regards to Naruto and Gaara… well you'll just have to see won't cha? *kukuku* but they do have a deep but complex friendship and it will play a fairly big part in the story.**

**Other pairings will come along eventually. Some are decided already, others aren't.**

* * *

**(1) Every time I wake up past noon with a hangover that can only be a punishment from the heavens, I call my best friend. The conversation always starts the same way:  
Me: I'm never drinking alcohol again in my life.  
My friend: Meh, we'll see come Thursday.**

* * *

**REVIEW DAMMIT! (Or Chibi Neji show up on your doorstep looking all Fate-gave-me-the-right-to-call-you-all-losers-and-I'm-arrogant-as-fuck-ish.) **


	2. Points of Authority

**Disclaimer: ****I do not, will not, have never, and shall never own **_**Naruto**_**. Nuff said.**

**Fair WARNING: ****Rated M. (Meaning mature content. Like- sex, drugs, cigarettes, alcohol and bad language.) Yaoi. (Meaning men sleeping with men) Possibly Yuri and good ol' hetero too.**

**Pairings: Neji/Gaara**

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for all of your lovely reviews—I love 'em with a bit of meat on their bones. Know that I take ideas and wishes into consideration if they don't clash with the plotbunnies (don't want that on my conscience).**

**Any-o-ways, I find it really entertaining that you're all assuming that it'll be SasuNaru further along. It is true that I am a faithful fan of the couple but it doesn't mean it's a given y'know. You'll just have to wait an' see what's in store for darling Naruto.**

**Here's the new chappie –enjoy and rejoice.**

* * *

_02  
Points of Authority  
"You live what you've learned"_

Gaara grew up without a mother. Temari had explained to him as a child that their father had reacted to her death by immersing himself in his work. She had told him that was the way he dealt with the pain. Gaara wasn't sure if that was really the case, or if he had simply lost his will to be with and love the remains of his family. To just look at his children –the walking reminder of her –had always seemed to hurt him. Still, his father never neglected them –they'd always had food on the table and plenty of toys to play with.

When his father died he had been forced to see the school psychiatrist. His sister had told him it would do him good to work out his emotions and the school had more or less demanded it. Apparently it was standard procedure for 'children in emotionally or physically stressed environments. The psychiatrist –a boring woman with a false smile –had told him that all circumstances and experiences affects and forms the soul and mind. It was probably the only reasonably intelligent thing she'd ever said. A person's beliefs and talents, preferences and dislikes, are determined by two things. Their soul –the very core of their being –and their surroundings.

Naruto –an orphan who had been bullied and shunned most of his childhood –had become strong because he had to. Gaara knew better than most that underneath the happy exterior was a will of fire and a determination rivalled by very few.

In the same way, Gaara too had been shaped by his past. Growing up in a household where the only parent was nearly a stranger and your older siblings were always busy with their lives, friends and future, one became tough. Not in the way Naruto was –for Naruto had been loved as a child and he always sought to regain that love and respect. He wanted to be noticed and it made him loud and boisterous. But Gaara never needed love or comfort. He grew up learning that love was a feeling that existed but was never expressed. He never had the need to be surrounded by others, or to be liked by his peers. Only now he had started realising that friendship could be valuable and that there was a difference between solitude and loneliness. If Naruto had been shaped to become the social tornado he was today, Gaara had been shaped to be quiet, sharp and intelligent. And it was also through his past that he had learned to play the game.

The game. He had never talked to anyone about it. Nor had anyone ever told him. It was the sort of thing that couldn't be explained unless you had already discovered it. To know why people acted as they did, to realise that they are easily influenced and to learn how to manipulate them. It was an entire world of discoveries. He still remembered when he first started playing –carefully probing his classmates and watching the consequences –and he remembered when he first realised that there were others who knew how to play –the day he watched his father disintegrate a rival at work with a mere handful of words.

And he loved it. There were few things in the world he truly enjoyed, few things that he was naturally talented at, but he had _always_ been brilliant at the game. He'd feel at home, safe, absolutely confident of what to do and when. And he had never been beaten –except by his father when he was still a child –not once in his life had someone outwitted him.

Until now.

He rested his head against the wall in the Sabaku household's hallway. He'd been sitting there for nearly half an hour now. He'd lost. _Lost_. He had been completely crushed by this –this-

'_Neji'_

He made a furious noise, fisting his crimson hair in his hands. No matter how he twisted and turned, mulled it over time and again, he couldn't come up with an alternative route that would have ended with him being the victor that afternoon. Rage blazed in his gut demanding him to take vengeance. –Still, what truly bothered him wasn't that he lost the battle of wits, but that deep down beneath the wrath and buzzing thoughts he was scared –truly, genuinely afraid. Frightened by mercury eyes and a confident smirk and the ruthless intelligence behind them. And even further down in the gutter of his mind he was sinfully attracted to the man. A man who could make him feel rage, fear and lust within a split second of one another –had he ever met such a man before?

No. Not even close.

'_And now… he's taking me to dinner.'_

Speaking of dinner –he hadn't eaten yet. Pushing himself off the floor he shuffled sullenly towards the kitchen for a snack, dinner would have to wait until his siblings came home since Temari was the only fair cook in the house. He stopped in his tracks.

'_Temari… Kankuro…', _the memory of a loud headline with a huge picture beneath it flashed through his mind, _'It was in _Shinobi_…' _lights swam before his eyes. It would probably be on the cover of every damn paper in the city by now.

"Shit!"

Damned be that wretched, good-for-nothing, slinky bastard Neji! The logical part of his brain supplied –unhelpfully –that he had been equally at fault. He ignored it. Damn. Just… _Damn_. Life could hardly get any worse than this –having to explain to your siblings not only that you had fooled around with one of the most powerful men in the country, but that he wasn't the first nor the last man you'd be intimate with since you –quite obviously –batted for the other team.

'_Damn'_

Gaara was of half a mind to call the brunette and chew him out for good measure –son of a three-legged, drunken sea-whore.

'_Is sea-whore even a word? Whatever, if it is, that's what _he_ is.'_

The red clock on the oven flashed brightly: _19:12_, it wouldn't be long before his siblings got home, and he had no idea what to tell them, though it seemed the best option was to get it over with immediately –he had some damage control to do. He ignored the burning tension in his stomach and sat down to wait.

He'd just finished an apple when the front door slammed open, followed by Kankuro's muffled yell that he was home. Gaara steeled himself, pushing away the queasy feeling in his throat.

"Yo", Kankuro greeted as he entered the kitchen, "hungover?" he continued while rummaging through the fridge. Gaara hesitated –Kankuro was possibly the least cunning and secretive person he knew. If he had heard, or read, about Gaara's little adventure he would be for more obvious. The redhead grunted in reply, thoughts stirring. Was it possible to hide this from his siblings? The thought had barely formed in his mind when his sister stepped into the kitchen and quashed any chance of keeping the secret. She knew. He saw it on her face the moment she showed up in the doorway and focused in on him with piercing eyes.

"Hey Gaara", she said, and he knew it was trouble. Her voice was too silky and her eyes never left his, "Do anything... _particular_ last night?" Kankuro looked up from the fridge, even he –thick-headed as he was –noticed the dangerous tone.

"Huh?", he said and closed the door, hands occupied by a carton of yogurt. Gaara swallowed, his tongue suddenly too large for his mouth.

"I was just wondering", Temari continued sweetly, "whether Gaara happened to… meet someone _special_ yesterday." By now Gaara knew all blood had left his face and Kankuro stared quizzically at the two of them. His ability to speak finally returned to him, possibly because his insides felt too cold for his tongue to be swollen. He sighed, too worn out from a harsh day to play along with his sister's mind-games.

"Just get it over with Temari. I'm not up to this." Her eyes turned sharp and cold.

"Too tired from fucking Hyuuga Neji perhaps?"

_Bam._

Kankuro's bowl of yogurt and cereal hit the floor and shattered. The tension was tangible. Hyuuga Neji was a name everyone knew, and Gaara had been asking himself time and again how he could have been so naïve? Still, he could always blame it on alcohol and a lapse of bad judgement. Only problem was that though Gaara sometimes drank too much it rarely affected his judgement at all.

"I didn't fuck him." He met his sisters glare steady on, ignoring Kankuro's stifled whine.

"Just snog him then?", the comeback was instantaneous, and he countered after a moment's hesitation:

"Yes." Kankuro was making small gurgling noises now.

"Fuck Gaara! Don't you _think_ before you act?", his sister looked almost shocked at his idiocy and her speech was even cruder than usual, "Your face is in every fucking paper in the city! How could you even-"

"What?", Kankuro finally managed to choke out. Temari threw him a copy of _Legendary _–one of the most popular gossip tabloids –the now familiar image was plastered across the front. Kankuro stared at it, mouth hanging open. He looked up at Gaara with wide eyes; it seemed he was once again bereft of his speech as he looked at the cover, then at Gaara, then at the cover again.

"Look", Gaara started, "You think I'm happy about that?", he nodded towards the paper, "I'm not. I was drunk and stupid, ok?" hopefully, he thought, bashing himself would be good enough to get them off his case. Only problem was: _hopefully_ doesn't cut it in the Sabaku household.

"You're _gay?_", Kankuro spluttered. Temari rolled her eyes:

"_How_ in the name of god and all his creatures _could you have missed that_? You're too thick to be human Kankuro", She turned to Gaara, "and _how_ could you be stupid enough to mess around with someone like Hyuuga _Neji_?" –Gaara cringed inwardly at the name that kept repeating itself in his head –"Can't you see he's just playing with you? And to have it all over the tabloids…"

Gaara swallowed. Might as well take the plunge and tell them everything in one go.

"He…", Gaara faltered when both his siblings stared at him, "he's taking me to dinner tomorrow."

If Temari had held a bowl of yogurt it would have hit the floor. The siblings stared at one another and Gaara could have sworn they all stopped breathing. The silence stretched while the minutes passed, until finally Temari seemed to collect herself:

"I think it's time for a cup of tea."

* * *

Tea was the general solution to any larger problem in the Sabaku home. Before their father died no one had really communicated, but after his passing when Temari had to take care of her brothers the tension had lessened. They still didn't talk or show care as much as other families –with the exception of Temari who could be a touch motherly at times –instead they had started the ritual of tea. Whenever an issue or fight came round, Temari would put the kettle on and all three of them would sit down and discuss it. Many were the times when Gaara had been glad that they handled things like this. No big fights, no awkward one-on-one's –just the three of them and a teapot.

Most of Gaara's friends were under the impression that he and his siblings were distanced from one another since they rarely spent time together. They ate dinner at the same time–and even then it was just because Temari was the only one who could cook –but otherwise they had little contact. They didn't watch TV, play games, go shopping or travel together. However, that was how the three of them wanted it. They were very different people with different friends, different tastes and different interests –it made no sense for them to try and socialise when they were always walking in opposite directions.

Still, when it really mattered they were always there. No matter if there was a really cool party down the block, or if there was a crisis at work or a test in school tomorrow they would drop it the moment one of them said 'let's have tea.'

Gaara watched as his sister readied the steaming cups. Kankuro already sat opposite him at the table, waiting. When they were all in place, a cup of tea in front of each of them and the pot on the table in case they needed a refill, Temari spoke again:

"From the beginning then, explain."

And he started, told them everything, from the club to the meeting at _Akatsuki_, and how weird Naruto acted and how he wasn't sure what Neji wanted at all. The only things he left out were his jealousy for Naruto and how he'd played the game with Neji. He had a feeling that Temari knew most of it anyway –she was quite receptive and even though they had never talked about it he knew she was a wicked player. When he had finished the cups were all empty. Gaara reached out to refill his when he was stopped by his sister's voice:

"I think this calls for something stronger. Hang on…", she rose from her chair and rummaged in one of the top cabinets, finally extracting two white bottles from behind a metal basin. She fished three small cups from a drawer and returned to the table- filling the cups with Sake and handing them out. Kankuro downed his in one go, holding it out for more.

"So", he said, focusing on Gaara, "What're you gonna do?"

"I don't know", the redhead admitted, staring into his cup, "it's…", he trailed off, not knowing how to end the sentence.

"Do you like him?", Temari inquired. Gaara hesitated; he didn't even know the answer to that question himself. Sure –he found Neji attractive, too attractive, and he still had the thrill of being in the brunettes company fresh in his mind. But he also knew that he was in deep waters and he wasn't sure if he could swim well enough.

"Even if you do", Kankuro's voice was grave, "I'm not sure I like it. Guys like Hyuuga are bad news if you ask me."

"I didn't", Temari shot back, "Gaara's nineteen, he can make his own choices." Gaara felt a wave of both gratitude and uncertainty at the words. It was true that he had to make up his own mind about Neji, but that also meant that he had to take full responsibility for the consequences.

"It's just a dinner", he found himself saying, "I'll make up my mind later, when I've heard what he wants." Kankuro snorted.

"It's obvious what he wants. He wants to fu-"

"Language", Temari snapped, which was ironic in its own right since she was by far the sibling with the filthiest mouth. Gaara studied the ceiling as she replenished their sake, searching himself. Would he really mind if Neji only wanted to fuck him?

'_Yes and No.',_ A voice in his mind answered, _'I wouldn't mind having sex with him… but I'd be disappointed if that was all he wanted after all this.'_

"I hardly think someone like Hyuuga Neji would go to such lengths just to get some", Temari said thoughtfully, "besides", she looked at Gaara who let his gaze fall from the ceiling to settle on her emerald eyes, "you said he drove you home, right?", he nodded, "if he just wanted to fuck-"

"Language", Kankuro barked.

"-why wouldn't he grab the opportunity when you were drunk?", she finished. She had a point and as much as he hated to admit it, it made a warm sensation spread in Gaara's limbs that had nothing to do with the alcohol. Kankuro scratched his chin, a frown in place on his tanned face.

"If we're gonna keep talking about my little brother's lovelife I'm gonna need something sturdier than this", he said glaring into the cup that he had drained for the third time. And with those words he left the kitchen, coming back with a bottle of _Jack Daniels_. Temari called for pizza –"We need food and I sure as hell aren't cooking tonight" –and they sat down once more. Normally Gaara disliked whisky and would never in his life drink it straight, but with a few mugs of sake already in his system and a troublesome issue at hand he found himself more than willing to break a few principles.

"Gaara", Kankuro started when they had taken the first shot, "there's something that's been botherin' me all evening", two pairs of green eyes watched him intently, "you're bent, right?" Temari sighed exasperatedly and Gaara was inclined to do the same.

"Your point?" he asked dryly. Kankuro narrowed his eyes to make them focus properly.

"My point is, why didn't I know?"

"Because you're denser than a muddy river Kankuro", Temari retorted. Kankuro shook his head.

"No, I mean, even I shouldn't be able to miss you fooling around with another man in the house", he clarified not seeming to realise he'd insulted himself in the process, "unless…", his eyes widened, "you and Naruto…?" Gaara had felt his insides go cold while his brother stumbled across his words –it was true he'd never fooled around in the house. And with good reason too –he'd never had a boyfriend, only the occasional make out whilst drunk –but it was too humiliating to say aloud even to his siblings. He pushed the embarrassment away, he didn't want to deal with it right now and he had spent too many hours of his life wallowing in it as it was. Instead he focused on the question Kankuro had finished his drunken mumble-jumble of words with. _Naruto?_ He couldn't help it –not with alcohol in his blood and a hard day wearying him –he snorted and soon he was shaking with laughter.

"Me and _Naruto_?", he snickered, "that's wrong in so many ways I can't even…", he shook his head, still chuckling, "he's like my brother. What you thought gays just grabbed any other homosexual in the vicinity or somethin'? That's fucked up." Kankuro looked sullen.

"'t was just a thought…", he mumbled.

"Perhaps Gaara, unlike _others_", Temari said with a smirk, "actually know better than to fool about in the house."

"Like you're one to talk!", Kankuro pointed an accusing finger at her, "don't think I didn't hear you last night on the phone with that dude you fuck regular." Temari blanched and then turned red with anger:

"Well at least my men don't leave their skanky underwear all over the house –what'd you do –bang her _under_ the piano?", she yelled back. Kankuro's face morphed into a disturbing grin:

"Do ya _really _wanna know?" Gaara's laughter had gone out of control by then, his eyes watering and arms curled around his stomach for support as his siblings continued to bicker. He felt better than he had all day.

* * *

Some pizza, a lot of whisky and nearly one hour of angry insults later Kankuro and Temari remembered the real origin of the argument and decided to resume discussing Gaara's Neji-issue. By then Gaara had settled for watching their squabbling with an amused fondness springing from the part of him that was still unused to seeing his sibling interact –albeit violently.

Temari and Kankuro had always been at each other's throats –even when they were young and their father was still alive. The two of them were both extrovert and strong-willed, and they usually harboured completely opposite beliefs, so it was natural that they would end up fighting. When they were younger these spats had been violent and cruel –Gaara still remembered the time that Temari threw a lamp across the living room, showering Kankuro and the sofa in thousands of ceramic shards –and little effort had been made to make up afterwards.

Gaara had not participated in any kind of contact willingly. Even though Kankuro most resembled their father in appearance, Gaara was very much like him in manner and attitude. He had been distant and cold, and preferred silent vigilance to meaningless rows. His siblings had soon learned to be careful around him and save their snide comments for each other. In a way this pattern had continued after the death of their father as well, Temari and Kankuro still fought –though they did it more carefully now, more like friendly bickering –and Gaara was still on the side-lines. But they had changed, Gaara knew it and his brother and sister knew it.

Temari had been 22 years old when she became the head and provider for their little family, from being a free-spirited university-student to shouldering the responsibility of taking care of and raising her brothers. Kankuro, still in high-school, had been a hormonal teenager with little consideration for others, used to taking care of himself, and Gaara… Gaara had been thirteen and already overwhelmed by the raging storm of puberty.

It had been tough; three kids who had learned not to depend on others suddenly had to collaborate to survive. Temari and Kankuro both started working part-time, and even then Temari would have had to drop out of university if it weren't for the money left by their father. Even when she graduated and started working full-time Kankuro kept on working. They both matured then, weighted down by obligation and necessity. That is also when they started acting like the parents Gaara never had. He didn't have the strength that they had –nor the maturity. He was little more than a boy, and it wore him down –deep into a darkness he'd rather forget. His siblings had reacted then, and their protectiveness had slowly morphed into the relationship they all shared now –a mutual respect and fondness.

He looked at them as they gathered themselves from the battle of wits –or more accurately battle of swearing and filthy-mouths –and felt warmth settle itself comfortably inside him. His siblings were probably more shocked and distressed than they wanted to let on, but they still acted as normal as they could to make him feel less intimidated and lost. Somehow his entire environment had been turned on its head recently, and watching them bicker made him feel that maybe –just _maybe_ –it wasn't the end of the world.

"Back to the issue at hand", Temari declared, slightly out-of-breath from yelling too much, "Hyuuga Neji."

"I thought we'd covered this already?", Gaara replied dryly, he didn't really want to be reminded of the fact that there was nothing he could do at the moment but wait.

"The hell we have!", Kankuro growled, swaying slightly. The bottle of Jack was nearly empty, leaving them all fuzzy-headed a not very practical. Gaara could feel it wearing down on his mind, making his thoughts slow and sluggish.

"You think", Kankuro continued, "That 'm gonna let this dude get his paws on my little brother?" His face was set with a protective anger that Gaara recognised well. He couldn't help but smile a little at his brother's outburst. He knew he should be angry at him for trying to pry in matters he didn't have the right to stick his nose into, but he couldn't make himself bother. It felt good that someone was angry on his behalf.

"It's not any of your business, Kankuro. And he hasn't really done anything that bad…", Temari countered, her eyes slightly glazed over from the alcohol, "but I can't say I'm too happy 'bout it either." She tried to focus on Gaara but failed as her gaze slipped sideways.

"I'm jus' sayin'", Kankuro slurred, "if he ever hurts you", he thrust his glass of whisky pointedly at Gaara, "amma gonna kill 'im dead."

Gaara sniggered at his brother. Kankuro looked like might fall of his chair at any moment and he had fallen back into the fake-gangster slang he'd used when he was in high school and thought he and his friends were the most bad-ass guys who'd ever graced the city of Konohagakure. He'd talked like that constantly back then, and he still slipped back into the habit now and then. When he was anxious or angry –or drunk.

"Whatever." Gaara shot back. He glanced at the time display on the oven: _01:34_. _Damn._

'_Perhaps it's time to go nighty night.'_ He giggled. Temari's eyelids were drooping dangerously low.

'_Yeah. Definitely.'_

* * *

When Gaara woke up the next day he was sweaty and uncomfortable. It felt stuffy in his room and the sun glared at him through the window. He groaned. The stale taste of alcohol still lingered in his mouth and he had a blistering headache to boot. The only actual comfort was the thought that at least he got to sleep late –his sister would have been up at seven to go to work. Stiff-legged and grumpy he descended the stairs and tumbled in to the kitchen to make some coffee. Kankuro was already there, head in his hands and hair still dripping wet from a shower. Gaara grunted in greeting. Kankuro mumbled something in reply without looking up. He made two cups of coffee, placing one in front of his brother who gave him a grateful glance and cradled it in his hands. They drank in silence as the minutes ticked by. Finally, Kankuro rose from his seat.

"I gotta go", he mumbled, "I promised I'd take the afternoon shift today." Gaara didn't reply. He just stared apathetically at the table while his head pounded uncomfortably. A hand passed his line of sight, dropping white pill in front of him. Kankuro turned to leave the kitchen.

"Gaara?", the redhead looked up with tired eyes, "'s alright y'know. Being… yeah." He waved his hand to empathise. Talkative as Kankuro was he had trouble expressing himself verbally when he had something important to say. But Gaara understood and it calmed a fear in him he never even knew existed. He smiled at his brother. Kankuro smiled back.

* * *

When his brother was out of the house he gathered his thoughts. He knew where he had to go today, but he also had a nagging feeling that confronting Naruto would not be as easy as facing his siblings. But a man's got to do what a man's got to do, so after downing the painkiller, eating a very small breakfast, taking a quick shower and throwing on some clean clothes he left the house.

Thirty minutes later he stood outside Naruto's building, a cigarette between his lips. The air was warm and heavy with a damp undertone which renewed his headache. His eyes trailed the sandy façade and settled on the fourth window from the right in the fifth row. Naruto's window. This wasn't the first time their friendship had been tested, but it was never pleasant. The issue this time was that he couldn't understand _why_ Naruto had been so cold and distant. Or perhaps he didn't want to understand. Honestly he hadn't paid it much thought, primarily because some part of him knew he didn't want to know the answer. He sucked in one last breath of smoke and flipped the end of the cigarette to the side.

He'd memorised the gate-code years ago and as he climbed the stairs he recalled the chaos that had followed when the elevator broke down three months ago. It struck him that he knew Naruto's home as well as his own. And that the same was true for his friend.

'_I hope he's gotten over whatever was bothering him yesterday.'_

Naruto opened the door on the second knock, hair as unruly as ever and face flushed from the heat.

"Gaara!" With a bright smile Naruto ushered him into the apartment, "Want some iced tea?" Gaara nodded and sat down in the living room. He wasn't at all surprised that Naruto seemed to have forgotten about the day before; his friend was usually like that. One day it was a catastrophe, the next it was barely remembered. No matter the unresolved business, he was glad to have things back to normal. He still didn't feel completely comfortable though, and though he'd rather not drag the problem into the light, he needed to.

'_Purify your life by cleansing out the lies and anger'_, his philosophy teacher had told the class in his second year of high school. Mad bitch.

"Hey Naruto", the blonde turned up in the doorway with a cup in each hand, "sorry about Wednesday. I should've told you earlier it just… kinda happened." Naruto smiled and shook his head.

"No sweat, I was just a little surprised is all", he sat down and handed a cup to Gaara, "about Wednesday, did I mention this guy I met?" Gaara shook his head, feeling content. Everything was as usual.

"Well he was at Yondaime right? And he was looking good enough and –well you know how I get when I'm drunk", he smiled sheepishly. Gaara laughed.

"Yeah. I _do _know how you get. So what happened?"

"Well we fooled around a bit", Naruto continued, this was far from the first time he'd told a story like this, "and then I left it at that." Seeing Gaara's raised eyebrows he continued, mock-affronted: "I really did! Honest!"

"If you say so", the redhead replied smugly. He sipped his tea, relishing in the cold and in listening to Naruto telling him of yet another one of his escapades.

"It's true! Oh well, anyway, he must've gotten my name from somewhere because he added me on Facebook", Naruto grimaced, "and now he won't stop PM-ing me!", the blonde paused to take a breath, "_'hey handsome, what're you doing tonight?'_", he imitated in a mock-deep voice. Gaara snorted with laughter and Naruto joined in.

"So…" Gaara asked slyly, "how will you handle it?" Naruto shrugged.

"Lead him on a bit", blue eyes glittered mischievously, "he was a bit too arrogant if you ask me."

They both humoured themselves with this for a while. Gaara didn't have it in his heart to feel sorry for the man –he sounded like an ass –and even if he did it wouldn't bother him. Naruto was devilish sometimes, but so was he. He had long since realised that he preferred his friends like that, self-confident and rather cruel, but loyal to their friends. It made for good company, and he wasn't keen to be over-sensitive.

"You wanna come over tonight?", Naruto asked suddenly, breaking the cosy illusion Gaara had constructed. He still had things to tell Naruto. "We could watch a movie, just the two of us.", the blonde continued with a smile. Gaara felt bad, it wasn't often that the two of them did things alone anymore and he would have to decline.

"I can't", he answered, suddenly tired. Naruto looked confused.

"Why not?", Gaara somehow knew that his news wouldn't be appreciated.

"I should have told you this yesterday", he started, "but I didn't have time to call you before Temari and Kankuro came home." Naruto's eyes widened.

"That's right! Have they seen it?" Gaara rolled his eyes.

"What do you think?", he answered, "Temari came home and was all… well you know how she gets", Naruto shuddered, "so I spent last night talking to them."

"How did they take it?", Naruto wondered, "you being gay I mean." It felt a bit strange, Gaara realised, that his siblings had known about Naruto's preferences but not his own. Or Kankuro anyway.

"Temari had it figured out", Naruto nodded unsurprised, "Kankuro was cool with it", he snorted, "they both want to kill Neji though." Naruto froze.

"You're calling him _Neji_ now?" once more Gaara couldn't place the feeling in Naruto's voice and his eyes had become hard and distant. The redhead sighed.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Yesterday…", his lips had suddenly gone dry and he stopped to wet them, "yesterday I got a text from him."

"You gave him your number?" Naruto interrupted, his face was still unreadable.

"Not exactly", Gaara decided not to tell Naruto that Neji had grabbed his phone, "but he wanted to meet me for coffee. I figured it was about the press so I went." He studied Naruto's features.

"Was it? About the press I mean.", Naruto's expression had softened a little and he didn't look so far off anymore. Encouraged, Gaara continued:

"No. he said the press is of no consequence." Naruto's famous tempered blared to life.

"_What_? What a prick! No consequence? Doesn't he realise how much _trouble_ he's caused you? I'm gonna kick his ass –sonovva_bitch_!" He actually made to rise from the sofa and Gaara stopped him with a gesture, smiling. This was the Naruto he knew, his loyal friend and fiery accomplice. The blonde fell back against the cushions again, but he still muttered darkly.

"So what did he want?", he asked sullenly, "and what does any of this have to do with tonight?"

"Well", Gaara started again, slowly, "he's taking me to dinner tonight."

Naruto's funny expression returned twice as bad. He almost looked constipated.

"You sure that's a good idea?", he asked in a strained voice. A chill passed through Gaara's body at the words.

"Why shouldn't it be?", he asked defensively. Naruto shrugged.

"I just… Guys like Hyuuga are bad news." Gaara felt a sliver of anger shoot through his mind.

"And you're one to talk? The guys you're fooling around with is hardly any better.", he glared at his friend. Why was he so opposed to Gaara having a bit of fun for once? He sure did –all the time. Naruto looked annoyed.

"Yeah, but I don't let my feelings get involved. I told you, I don't want to see you get hurt and Hyuuga is dangerous." Gaara was furious by now.

"Well maybe I _like _danger", he replied boldly, "and I don't have any feelings for him. Why are you acting like I'm a fragile little girl? I'm not gonna fall in love with him." Naruto looked livid.

"You don't know what you're dealing with! He's using you and you're falling for it", Gaara opened his mouth to answer but found the words stuck in his throat. Naruto calmed down and looked at him with concern in his face.

"I'm just worried for you."

Somehow Gaara knew that he wasn't satisfied with this explanation and that he was still angry, but the soft tone in Naruto's voice deflated his anger to resignation. Perhaps Naruto _was _worried about him; the blonde boy's temper had gotten the better of him before. He knew he should confront this while it was still fresh, but he couldn't bring himself to fight with his best friend. It would cause too much energy, and it wouldn't solve anything –not while they were both so rooted in their opinions. Instead he let his lips form a sly grin.

"Naruto –who's using who exactly? If he wants to take me out on a fancy dinner that's his decision, I don't have any obligations. I just wanna play around a bit alright?", he said lightly even though he felt heavy inside. Naruto gazed at him for the longest time –and then he grinned.

"Well as long as you know it's nothing serious", he said good-naturedly but it sounded a bit forced, "playing Hyuuga Neji, hm? Interesting."

They laughed again but both of them were still tense, the argument was put aside but not forgotten. Soon they had turned the discussion to safer subjects and were discussing his siblings' reaction. Naruto snorted into his tea when Gaara told him about the whisky and its after-effects, and the rest of his visit passed without any relapse into their disagreement.

'_Playing Hyuuga Neji…'_, Gaara thought, _'I wonder if it's really that easy. Somehow I doubt it.'_

* * *

He left Naruto's apartment at four in the afternoon, feeling both light and heavy. He knew that they would have to resolve their differences sooner or later, but for now he preferred later. At least he and Naruto were on good terms again, and he could focus on the night ahead of him.

The house was still empty when he returned, meaning he could blast music while he got ready. After showering again and spending a substantial amount of time on fixing his hair and carefully drawing kohl around his eyes he went through every drawer of clothes he owned, trying to construct an outfit that was both casual and eye-catching.

At a quarter past six he had finally decided on a pair of slim black jeans and a loose red t-shirt with a black print. The shirt revealed the thin black leatherstrap-necklace he always wore. Originally, a small silver orb had hung on it but he'd lost it the summer before his third year in high school. The necklace had been a Christmas-gift from Naruto and he still remembered they day he'd gotten it.

_It was the Christmas of their first year in high-school. The winter had been terrible –the first snow had come in October and never disappeared. The chill froze anyone stupid enough to leave their toasty homes to the core and walking to the bus in the complete darkness of seven-thirty in the morning was nearly unbearable. But now winter-break was finally upon them and Christmas eve came round to warm even the coldest of people with hot chocolate and expectations for the next day._

_Gaara had never had a Christmas gift from anyone but his family before. He stared at the parcel, Naruto smiling at him with rosy cheeks and holding his own gift –from Gaara –in hands neatly stuffed into a pair of wool mittens. Their breaths were visible clouds of steam in the air and the sky was dark even though it was only seven o'clock. Only the streetlamps gave them light enough to see one another._

"_Don't open it until tomorrow alright?"_

Extracting himself from the memory, he stepped outside for a smoke to calm his nerves. The air was still wet and warm and although the summer skies were clear he could sense rain in the distance. He was halfway through his cigarette when Temari's car pulled in to the driveway, emitting both of his siblings. He raised his thin eyebrows, they were both early… how convenient.

Kankuro and Temari made no effort to hide that they were both home early to see him go off on his date, and refused to promise to stay away. Gaara felt his temper flare –fuelled by anxiety. He vehemently refused to consider the nervous fluttering in his stomach or the constant doubts flooding his mind. _'Was he dressed too casually? Should he wait inside or on the front-steps of the house?' _The latter would insure that his siblings had no chance of ambushing Neji, but it also made him seem eager and… kind of desperate.

Finally deciding on a compromise –standing outside with the excuse of having another smoke –he grabbed his jacket and stepped outside. He lounged against the wall of the house, smoke drifting from his lips into intricate swirls. No effort seemed to still his speeding nerves and his brain supplied plenty of unpleasant scenarios to make it worse. He hadn't considered that Neji wouldn't show up until that afternoon, and when he did panic had struck him. What if this was just a joke? He knew that the thought was irrational, but somehow the uneasiness of his abdomen and tension in his muscles told him otherwise. Suddenly it seemed perfectly logical for Hyuuga Neji to spend time and effort on tricking him.

Naturally, he was proved wrong, but as Neji's car –another sleek black _Shukaku_, but Gaara had no idea what model –slowed to a halt in front of his house, he couldn't help but feel relieved. Tossing the end of his cigarette aside he strolled over to the passenger seat and opened the door. Neji's half-smirk greeted him as he slit down on the black leather-seat. For once in his life Gaara wished he didn't nurse the habit of dressing himself in chains. The links of metal on his jacket and jeans jingled softly at every movement and made him even more self-conscious. Neji looked stunning as always and seemed –thankfully –no less casual than Gaara. His long legs were wrapped in dark-blue designer jeans and a white long-sleeved shirt was mostly covered by a light-brown leather-jacket. His mercury eyes were fixed on the road as he drove away from the Sabaku residence, but he'd certainly catch Gaara staring anyway if his gaze lingered. With effort the redhead managed to watch the road as well, but was assaulted instead by Neji's scent –a mixture of cologne, aloe vera–_'perhaps his shampoo?' _–and leather which probably came from the car's interior. He breathed in deeply and found a trace of a musky undertone which had to be the man's own fragrance. Tearing his mind out of the gutter before he sank too deep, he pondered where he actually stood with Neji. He had no chance of knowing how the other man considered things, but he could analyse himself. After their meeting at the café the day before he had been so upset with his loss and busy with his siblings and Naruto that he hadn't thought to form a strategy against the brunette. His first realisation was that he barely knew the man next to him. He didn't know anything about his family, friends, strengths or weaknesses –he had nothing to exploit but what he had grasped of Neji's personality. And, Neji barely knew him. This was a source of comfort as well as uncertainty. They were on even ground, but that also meant the man might tire of him when he got to know him better.

'_Why does that bother me so much?'_

Recognising that he didn't want to know the answer to that question, he moved on to analysing what he knew of Neji's skills in the game and of the brunette's signature plays. As in all other aspects of life, a player had certain ploys or tactics that they used more than others. Some moved in secret and had a set-up of puppets to manipulate when they so pleased, whilst others preferred to work alone and deal with the consequences. From what Gaara understood about Neji, the man used his different facades to allure and intimidate in perfect symbiosis. The result was terrifying, and Gaara still only had a first impression to work with. One could know a player for years and still not completely understand their game.

He found that he was still upset with himself for failing the last time he challenged the man. It made him tense, awkward and slightly panicked to face him again so soon and without figuring out a tactic beforehand. He smothered the unease –he'd never manage to win against Neji if he was afraid of losing.

'"_He who fears being conquered is sure of defeat"'_

"Where are we going?", he asked instead, watching as Neji cruised through central city. The corners of the Hyuuga's lips quirked upward.

"I hope you like Italian food", he answered, avoiding the question altogether. Gaara felt a small prickle of interest at this, some feeling he couldn't quite place. He _did_ like Italian food –loved it actually. Next to traditional Asian courses it was his favourite –plus Italian espresso was the best of its kind. He didn't want to admit it and see Neji's smug expression at being right, but he couldn't very well hide it either –that would be childish and unproductive. Instead he smirked confidently –Neji would find that the victory would not come easy this time.

"I like _good_ Italian food", he said smoothly. Neji's smirk grew more prominent.

"You won't be disappointed."

Neji took them from central city to the north district and then passed the river. Gaara was growing curious –the north area of the city was much too expensive for him and his friends so they rarely had any business there. If they were going to a restaurant in the north… then it would probably be ridiculously fancy and over-prized. He frowned. Maybe he had under-dressed after all.

As it turned out, that wasn't the case. Neji pulled into a small parking-lot beside the river and led him out unto a rather deserted street. Gaara blinked as he realised they were on one of the river-roads –streets running aligned with the waterway but which were rarely used since they disturbed those who fancied strolling along the riverside. Here, he noted, the side of the river had its own pathway to boot. A thin stretch of grass with perfectly pruned trees and a small footpath made of white stone framed the water.

Intrigued, he followed Neji around the corner to find a small –and very Italian –restaurant. The aroma of delicious Mediterranean cuisine wafted out through the open door from the lively rooms inside. They were immediately shown to a table, and from the behaviour of the employees Gaara guessed that Neji was a regular customer.

'_Maybe this is where he takes all his dates'_

He stopped the thought from causing a long and painful process of imagining Neji on a hundred other dates with more beautiful men and woman than he. The table they had been placed at was semi-private, secluded from the rest of the restaurant by a thick green bush adorned with white flowers that smelled exotic and intoxicating. They sat by a window with a view of the river which glittered in the light from the different cafes and eateries that flanked it on both sides in the approaching dusk. It was so cliché it made it charming.

A waiter appeared at their table; he was so distinctly Italian that it made Gaara smile –sweeping his hand in a grand gesture while he handed them their menus and greeted them in a thick accent. His nametag revealed that his name was _Paolo_.

"_Mille Grazie_", he thanked him as he accepted his menu. The waiter smiled widely at him.

"_Parli Italiano?_", he asked.

"_Sí, un po'_", Gaara answered, "_ma non parlo bene._" Paolo laughed:

"You speak well for being Japanese", he assured him before he left them to wait on another table. Gaara turned back to his companion and found Neji watching him with raised eyebrows.

"You never cease to surprise me, Scarlet", he said lightly, "Italian?" Gaara shrugged.

"I read it in high school", he answered, "and the name is Gaara." Neji regarded him with a mixture between a smile and a smirk on his lips.

"Not fond of nicknames?"

"How would you feel if I called you _auburn _all the time? I have a name", he wasn't sure what the conversation had turned to, and he was pretty certain that they weren't playing, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. It felt like they were in a place that wasn't truly connected to the real world. Neji chuckled –a deep, vibrating sound which made a shiver run up Gaara's spine.

"Good point", he answered, "but at least I'm not calling you ginger." Gaara had to smile at that. Who knew Neji could joke anyway? He shook his head and returned to viewing the menu.

As the evening passed by he found that he enjoyed Neji's company. Not simply because he was gorgeous –Gaara had to stop himself several times from staring at the other man and forgetting to eat –or because he was a thrilling counterpart in the game, but because he was interesting and entertaining. A couple of times he had to interrupt Neji as he slipped into his polite-mask façade, and many more times they dedicated a few minutes to play against each-other, but mostly they just talked.

Neji was in his second year at university, studying law so he could join the section of _Hyuuga Corp. _which specialised in keeping the Uchiha and Hyuuga companies free from conviction. He had raised an eyebrow when Gaara told him he was nineteen and fresh out of high school, but didn't comment on the fact that the boy was too young to be out clubbing. The food was amazing –A smug smirk appeared on Neji's face when Gaara admitted this –which led them into a long talk about meals and wine, two subjects Neji was well-versed in. Half-way through dinner a soft rain started pitter-pattering against the window.

When the main course was finished it was nearly dark outside, the lingering summer-evening light shielded by the misty rain, and Gaara was itching for a smoke. Neji scrutinised him from across the table, a half-empty glass of Chianti in one hand.

"Perhaps we should get some air before dessert", he said with a knowing edge to his voice. Gaara cursed internally, was he that obvious?

"It's raining", he answered, gazing out the window. Neji chuckled again, he had done so several times during the meal and it always made the same tingling sensation spread in Gaara's bones.

"I think we'll be able to borrow an umbrella", his voice was slightly too humoured for Gaara not to spot a challenge in the words.

"You seem keen on this", he answered with a smirk, "are you thinking of leaving the bill?", Neji's eyes gleamed with dangerous excitement for a moment before turning back to the entertained glitter they had held previously.

"No, I simply wish to enjoy the last of our meal with a pleasant companion.", he raised an eyebrow, "though I must admire your discipline. Sasuke wouldn't have made it past the entrée", he looked a little _too _smug, "let's go outside." He rose from his chair, leaving Gaara no choice but to follow. Not that he would have put up much of a fight though, he _did _need nicotine.

The rain had grown from a steady drizzle to a downpour of heavy raindrops. They passed the now completely empty road to the lane on the other side, settling in under a large oak. Neji –being the tallest –held the umbrella over both of them while Gaara lit his cigarette and dragged the first breath of smoke into his lungs –releasing it with a content sigh.

They stood in silence as the rain pounded down on their protection, and Gaara found himself looking for something to inspect to avoid gazing at the brunette. He settled for the river, and the way the raindrops made it unrecognisable as they battered down on the surface. He fell into deep thought –something very hard for those who do not know how and very easy for those with years of practise.

'_When it rains, it's because water gathers in the sky until the weight and density pulls it back down', _he shrugged mentally, _'or something like that anyway.'_ His gaze wandered to the indiscernible sky instead. _'Maybe we humans are the same'_, he thought about Naruto, how the argument with him had weighed him the entire day, _'if something makes us upset, it weighs down on us until it's too heavy. And then the skies turn dark and we have to cry to lighten them. But unless we know that our tears will be well received it's useless. For they would just steam right up to the skies and reform the dark clouds.'_ He paused. _'Does that make sense?'_

He returned to the moment to find Neji looking down on him with an unreadable expression on his face.

"What are you thinking about?", the brunette murmured. Gaara hade the answer at the tip of his tongue: _'Nothing_'. The same answer he always provided for those who caught him in one of his contemplative moods –he had learned many years ago that people never understood the strange workings of his mind anyway. But something stopped him, and to his own amazement he found himself answering truthfully:

"I was thinking that humans aren't so different from Mother Nature after all. When something clouds our heart tears must fall for the sky to clear", He stared at the water, "and if there are no rivers to catch our tears they will simply rise again and turn to dark clouds." He didn't know why he'd said it. He could get those moments of sombre contemplation sometimes, without warning and with no regards to the situation. Once he'd considered the meaning of life and death's never-ending cycle when he and his friends were lost in Iwagakure and a group of dangerous-looking men were following them down a deserted street. Now, he felt his face heating in the silence following his little speech. Why had he verbalised his silly thoughts? Even he could hear how strange and illogical they sounded when spoken aloud.

Suddenly, warm lips covered his and his cigarette fell to the ground from limp fingers. Neji's kiss was nothing like the mad frenzy they had indulged in at Jinchuuriki, it was soft and careful. His eyes fluttered shut and his lips seemed to part automatically. Neji's tongue was almost tender when it searched his mouth, long fingers gently touching his right cheek. He could sense it stronger now, the musky scent that was Neji's own. It filled his senses and made him dizzy. And then the lips retreated and the hand left his face. Neji smiled at him. It was a small smile, but a real one. The first one he'd ever seen on the Hyuuga. Gaara still felt dazed and the smile made him feel safe and comfortable. Neji said something, but it was too soft to hear over the shower that still crashed down on the umbrella over their heads. They turned and walked back inside.

* * *

The amount of rain receded as they drew closer to Gaara's home and when they reached his street it had stopped completely. Neji's car came to a halt outside the Sabaku house and silence settled in the car. The evening had been surprisingly comfortable and nearly void of any embarrassing quiets –which Gaara was quite sure Neji was responsible for. The man smoothed over any tension or hesitation in a manner that suggested much practice.

Now, however, he was uncertain of what he was expected to do. In a lapse of old habit, he fell back to the almost non-verbal state he had been in before starting high school.

"Thank you", was all he managed to produce. Neji smirked and leaned closer to him- he stiffened, sure what would come next. Exhilarated anticipation filled him and he remembered he had to think about how much the other man affected him at a later time, for now though… but Neji weaved to the right and peered around Gaara instead to look out the window, and the redhead chided himself for getting so excited. The brunette was still very close, however, and his scent assaulted Gaara once more, a sliver of lust flaring to life in his chest.

"It seems someone is up waiting for you", Neji said casually and drew back a little so they were eye to eye. Gaara didn't dare breathe. They were mere centimetres apart.

"Temari", his voice was a low murmur, but Neji would hear every word, "my sister", he added. Neji's eyes were so close, his breath dancing across Gaara's lips. Without a thought, he gave in to temptation and closed the distance between them. The kiss was fiery and demanding, he buried one hand in silky, brown hair. Neji answered him with less careless lust and more dominance, sliding his tongue between Gaara's lips. He tasted faintly of the espresso he'd had after dinner, Gaara noted, and it was even more intoxicating than the drunken kisses in _Jinchuuriki_ had been. When they parted, Neji had a smug expression on his face, barely noticeable if you hadn't watched him intently and knew the signs to look for. Gaara realised what it was.

'_Damn. I lost again.'_, the defeat this time wasn't nearly as bitter as the last one, but it still soured his mood a little. Could he ever let his guard down around this man?

'_No'_, he answered himself, _'I can't.'_

"Goodnight Gaara", the redhead nodded with a smile, the least he could do was look good losing.

"Goodnight _Neji_", he answered before leaving the car. He though he heard a faint chuckle as he closed the door, and his own lips tugged upwards as he walked to the front door, careful not to look back –even once –at the black car.

Temari was in the living room when he arrived. She looked relieved to see him and rose from the armchair where she had been reading.

"You're home, good." She said, smothering a yawn. "Had fun?", he felt a wave of affection when he realised she had indeed been waiting for him to make sure he was alright. He nodded.

"Good", she smiled at him, "well I'm off to bed. Kankuro's out with those rascals he calls friends so he probably won't be home until morning. Goodnight."

"Goodnight", he echoed as she left the room. He should probably get some sleep too, but although he was tired he felt a strong urge not to go to bed yet. Instead, he shuffled back out of the house and lit another cigarette.

His house seemed to be caught between two thunderstorms. The rain that had poured over the city earlier had passed to the west, but new dark clouds were threatening over the city to the east. Lightning bolts illuminated the dark sky on both sides, followed by deep rumblings. He watched the show contently. It was a rare sight, like he stood in the eye of the storm, and it made him marvel at nature's own fireworks. The evening had been so different from what he had expected. Neji was different from what he had expected.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

'_Maybe things aren't so bad after all'_

* * *

**A/N: I have a question that's been bugging me for weeks(but I'm too lazy to look it up) does tears have DNA? If I cry on a dead body will the police find my genetic code there then? Anyone listen in advanced biology?**

**About the story: ****In regards to Naruto and Gaara's friendship (of which many has questioned) I'd say that's probably my favourite part of this fic. In any normal relationship there are rough patches and jealousy is a natural element between two people who are so close yet so different. And nobody is perfect –Naruto might act like a bitch at times but that's just one of his negative sides, just like Gaara can be incredibly insensitive sometimes.**

* * *

"_He who fears being conquered is sure of defeat" _– Napoleon Bonaparte (1769 - 1821)

_Chianti –_ is a brand of Italian wine from Florence, Tuscany. (It's quite good)

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**Review my dears! Or Little Chibi Temari and Little Chibi Kankuro will have a fight in YOUR kitchen. (And that ain't a pretty sight)**


	3. Heart Attack

**A/N: I've been terribly busy with this and that, so the chapter is out inexcusably late. I humbly beg for your forgiveness. For those of you who follow Naruto as diligently as I, it comes as no surprise when I say that Tobi's identity is revealed at last! In celebration; this chapter is the longest one yet, measuring a total of 11 600 words. Unfortunately, this is poorly beta'd since I was low on time… Sorry again!**

**I also realise that I have put a lot of weight on the Gaara/Naruto issue. I realise that this can be frustrating, but it is an important part of the story and I want to do it justice. Hopefully, after this chapter, there will be more Neji action and less Naruto… But he will not disappear.**

**For those of you who are not avid fans of Naruto, or of Gaara analysing things, I'm afraid you will find the first part of this chapter a bit dull. However, it was necessary and hopefully it gives you better insight to the workings of Gaara's life.**

**Furthermore: I promise I have no intention of giving up on this story. Sometimes the update can take a while, but it will come. I have put far too much thought into this story to discontinue it:)**

* * *

_03  
Heart Attack  
"Not ashamed of the habits that I'm forming"_

The morning came sweet and unbidden, waking him up from pleasant dreams he couldn't remember. The storm had brought cooler weather which filled his bedroom by means of fresh air and soft breezes. Something about the light sunshine and loud birdsong of mid-morning felt incredibly idyllic, though he assumed it had more to do with waking up before noon for once. It was Saturday which meant that neither his brother nor his sister would be working; Temari since her job offered free weekends and Kankuro because he would be much too hung over. Unsurprisingly, his brother's loud snores could still be heard through the door as he passed Kankuro's room on his way down to the kitchen. Temari, of course, was already up and was busy cleaning the living room. It was Sabaku honour-code not to speak before lunch and cosy as they had been with one another the last few days, Gaara obeyed it strictly. He never fancied talking much in the morning anyway. After downing several cups of coffee and some cereal he left the house. He needed a walk, a smoke and some space to consider.

Neji. Naruto. Temari and Kankuro. Ino, Shikamaru and the rest of his friends. It seemed his world had made a complete spin from worrying about exams, essays and last-minute revising during the weeks since his graduation. It was interesting, he thought whilst lighting his cigarette and strolling past the last houses on his block to the big park separating it from the next one, how quickly one's priorities change. A month ago he had strolled through this very park with nothing swirling in his mind but plans for the future, chemistry formulas and the feeling of time running out. Now, the time _had_ run out and he felt at odds with himself. His need to do something with his life, to do change and to be changed, to experience new things, suddenly seemed very far away. The naïve impression of the world he had carried through high school suddenly seemed childish and impossible. To travel the globe, educate himself, become someone important and successful, lead a jet-set life yet not turning aloof and greedy. He snorted. He'd probably never get to try his morals and discipline when faced with fame and money; the odds he would were abysmal. Instead he found that he would have to choose. He had reached the moment in life when he had to close thousands of doors and leave only one open, the door that would lead to his future. Every time he considered it his mind shut down, pushed it away. He didn't want to make the decision, didn't want to discard so many possibilities.

And now he had other things on his mind. Distracted by friends, family and… possible lovers? He was clueless of how to label Neji and he had a sneaky suspicion he would never be able to categorise the man; Neji was a singular matter in and of himself. And Naruto, Naruto who seemed to be re-enacting the cold war on his own. He crossed a patch of grass to reach the small pond at the end of the park and plopped down on one of the benches lined up to face it. The emotional mess seemed to grow to unbelievable proportions as soon as he even nudged it with his mind. To sort it out seemed impossible. He glared at the lake whilst knowing perfectly well that what he needed to do was sort out every entity on its own and then move on to connecting the dots. But he would still rather ignore it and move on without figuring out the issues surrounding him.

'_There are definite downsides to being intelligent'_, he thought grumpily, _'ignorance is bliss and the secret to a happy life is to be stupid.'_

Intelligence. He might as well start there. He was afraid of letting time pass even more than he feared making a decision about the future. Already had the soothing lull of idleness started luring him in, and his mind and body had become sluggish and unfocused. What if he never moved on? What if he never chose, but was to be forever trapped here, clever but uneducated, until he was too used to care? What if he was doomed to waver onto infinity about what option to pick, and in the end never reached a conclusion?

He shook his head to rid himself of such thoughts, there was no way, even with the comforts of a home and a predictable life, that he would ever be stuck here. He would move on, he just had to think through where he would move on _to_. And that was it. Unfortunately, he didn't have the leisure of contemplating life choices right now; he had other things to analyse. But one of these days he would have to rid himself of his apathy and start working on some sort of plan. As for now, Naruto was next on the solving list.

He hadn't wanted to consider his best friend before, warned by a small chime in the back of his mind which told him that once he had figured it out, their friendship would never quite be the same. Still, he had woken up that very morning with an urge to settle the score with all of his mental demons, and Naruto was definitely in the top five of those.

To solve this emotional equation he would have to rewind his memory, searching for signs he knew he had seen but never consulted before. He and Naruto had three years of ups and downs behind them, and the more he thought about it, the more unresolved issues he found. It all boiled down to one thing though.

'_Naruto's a self-centred egomaniac with no respect for other people.'_

Problem was two things. One; this was hardly a revelation since Gaara had been aware of it for two and a half years. Two; it wasn't entirely true. Gaara had done many things which would be considered less than intelligent, but he would never have stayed with his best friend if Naruto wasn't a good person deep down. He had come to think of it as if Naruto had three layers: the first was the shallow, social and flirtatious blonde with the sunny disposition. The second was the selfish, sly boy with lacking ethics and no mind for consequence. And then there was the third; the core of Naruto. It was rarely seen, but it was the friend Gaara would miss. Inner Naruto was kind yet unconfident, determined yet scared and perceptive yet lonely. Gaara had often considered the possibility that everyone had a core which was the mirror-image of their surface, and that a person's outward personality was in fact the result of trying to compensate in the areas where one felt lacking. Hence resulting in the kind of mess Naruto had become. Neither of this however helped solve his current problem; Naruto's obvious problem with and resentment towards Neji. The memories flowed into his mind as he tried to figure _why _Naruto would be acting up like this.

* * *

"_Sensei."_

"_Yes, Naruto?"_

"_Gaara and I are going home for the day. He's not feeling well and there's no one at his house to take care of him, so I'm going.", Naruto looked expectantly at their math teacher, Gaara still and silent as a shadow behind him._

"_If Gaara is unwell I suggest he go to the nurse's office. As for you, Naruto, our class starts in five minutes", Gaara felt disappointment and unwarranted despair pool in the pit of his stomach. Nurse? Alone? Naruto straightened and glared at Ebisu-sensei, his eyes as sharp and unrelenting as the sixteen-year old could make them._

"_I don't think you quite understand the situation, sensei", he said acidly, his verbal skills and pronunciation much more advanced than his usual mindless gab, "Gaara is _not feeling well_ and I _will_ accompany him home to make sure he's alright. Your private evaluation of this matter is of no consequence since I am stating a fact –not asking for your opinion or permission.", had Gaara been his usual self he would have no doubt found it incredibly entertaining to see the look on Ebisu's face. Their teacher spluttered indignantly and straightened his glasses –a gesture all students knew was usually followed by a long lecture on ethics. _

"_You have _no _right to be talking to a teacher like that! Detention! And if you put _one toe_ outside school property before the bell rings I shall have to call your parents and inform them that you are suspended!", Gaara noticed Naruto silently tensing during the reprimand, every muscle on the blonde's body spelling danger._

"_My parents are dead, I doubt you would be able to call them", he hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowed in anger, "but feel free to try. Let's go, Gaara." _

_They _had _gotten in a lot of trouble over their little stunt, but it had been worth it. Gaara –hit by one of his regular depressions –had for the first time actually talked with someone about it. For two weeks the boys had stayed at home or embarked on long walks through the city and Gaara had never shattered into the dark oblivion of negative thoughts since._

* * *

_When Gaara answered the door he first didn't recognise his friend. Naruto's hair was dull and for once it looked manageable, he had dark circles under his eyes and a haunted look about him._

"_Uh… Tea?", Gaara ventured while Naruto shuffled past him into the kitchen._

"_Ice cream." Uh-oh. That bad. He dug through the freezer, extracting from the depths of it a plastic container for emergence use. Grabbing two spoons he removed the lid and placed the box holding one litre of vanilla ice-cream on the table. He sat down opposite Naruto and waited while his friend dug in._

"_Zaku…", Naruto mumbled with his mouth full of ice-cream, "he… broke up with me."_

_Gaara stilled with his spoon halfway to his lips. Zaku and Naruto had dated since before he had met his energetic friend. He had never considered that they might not last._

"_Why?", he asked, perhaps not very tactfully, "and how?" Naruto grimaced. _

"_It's not like it has been that great between us lately but… he said I was too cold", to most people this would have seemed like a statement bordering on absurd, but Gaara knew even then that his friend could be secretive and at times downright hostile regarding his emotions, "and…", Naruto continued miserably, "he said he's fallen in love with someone else."_

_Weeks had been spent healing away the wounds of this particular relationship in Naruto's life, he recalled. But they were the first weeks that Naruto had been his and his alone; no boyfriends or other disruptions –and he cherished that._

* * *

"_He was such a fox", Naruto declared dreamily, completely unaware of the irony of him using 'fox' –a nickname the blonde had carried most of his life –to describe the attractive attributes of someone he'd met only once. The occurrence of Naruto depicting someone he'd recently met as a god-sent Adonis wasn't rare, and was usually followed by a detailed tale of how the delicious specimen had fallen in lust with him at first sight. "I was staring at him –he really was perfect –and then he sort of scanned the place, and he looked right at me", Naruto rambled on while Gaara smoked, throwing in a nod or urging him on with a grunt every now and again, "anyway, he came over to my table and –do you know what he told me?", Gaara chimed in with an interested: _

"_Hm?", to which Naruto gladly continued._

"_He said I was the hottest thing he'd seen there and he wouldn't mind taking me home!", Gaara pondered briefly how Naruto could make even a blatantly arrogant pick-up line like that seem flattering and romantic. He also wondered how his friend managed to get flirted with on his grandparent's anniversary party._

_He was used to these stories by now, though, and had learned not to question them too thoroughly; Naruto seemed to meet incredibly beautiful men at every corner whenever Gaara wasn't present, and they all seemed to be throwing themselves at his feet –and yet he never saw any of them again. The red-head had long since concluded that his friend's anecdotes were in most cases exaggerated, though if Naruto twisted his stories on purpose or if they were warped by the strength of his mind and imagination he had yet to figure out._

"_You know", Naruto said to him, "we should totally find you a hot guy."_

_Gaara grunted in agreement._

* * *

_Gaara scrutinized his best friend's latest love-interest. They were sitting in a corner in _Point Place _enjoying steaming cups of coffee while cold autumn rain battered the window to their left. Naruto was talking animatedly, leaned comfortably against his boyfriend of two months. This was the first time Gaara met him, since the brunette was two years their senior and lived in Amegakure. The distance seemed to be no issue for the lovers however, and fact was that this was the first time Gaara had seen his friend since his new boyfriend arrived for the week-long break they had from school. Gaara, having known Naruto for nearly two and a half years now, was in his usual bind. He knew that he shouldn't bother with Naruto's love life, but even if he would interfere he wouldn't know to what end. He disliked Naruto _with_ a boyfriend since the blonde became too consumed by relationships to spend any time with him; but he also disliked Naruto _without_ a boyfriend since it caused the blonde to spend most of his time socialising and –unintentionally –robbing Gaara of any chance at ever finding a man interested in _him._ Deciding that this problem was probably more his fault than Naruto's, he resolutely stopped thinking about it. Instead, he focused on the silent boy across from him._

_Naruto was smiling and chatting to cover up the awkward tension between his best friend and new boyfriend. After the first introductions, the conversation had turned to a ridiculous two-way discussion since both of the other boys were more than happy to talk to the blonde, but not to one another._

_Gaara studied the brunette across the table carefully. Why didn't he try to strike up a conversation with his boyfriend's best friend? Surely he must realise how uncomfortable the consequences could be if the two of them didn't get along. He received his answer as Naruto rose from his seat to get more coffee and the two of them were left in silence. The boy –Shigure, or 'Shi' as Naruto had fondly nick-named him –were looking anywhere but at the redhead. When he finally had nowhere place left to watch but the red-head's gaze Gaara nearly smirked, his suspicion confirmed. The boy looked nervous. _

'Though not nervous enough…'_, Gaara's sole comfort in Naruto's many affairs was that he –as the best friend –had the power of ultimate judgement. No matter how close _Shigure _got to Naruto, he would never be as close as Gaara._

"_So…", he said languidly, "what university are you thinking of applying to?", it was mean, and he knew it. Naruto had told him of 'Shi's' plans on becoming a mechanic. The blonde had also told him that he suspected the reason for this to be that his boyfriend's grades weren't good enough to continue his education. Shigure tensed and the red-head noted a flicker of –embarrassment? –in the corner of the brunette's eyes. Gaara chuckled inwardly._

'I give him three more months… tops.'

* * *

Gaara let his head fall backwards against the back of the bench. Perhaps he and Naruto were really two peas in a pod. He always blamed Naruto for taking what little spotlight he had and he… well he just had to crush the spirit of Naruto's boyfriends…

'_well… only those I don't like. Shigure was an idiot, it wouldn't have worked.'_

He knew he was making excuses for himself, just as Naruto would surely make excuses for his need of constant attention. Be that as it may, but Gaara had still to uncover the root to their most recent issue. The answer was blatantly obvious, of course, even though he did not like it.

Naruto was jealous. Or perhaps not _jealous_ per se, but he certainly didn't enjoy seeing his best friend stealing some of his glory. During the three years that had passed the two of them had not only formed a strong bond –but also very well-defined roles to play. Gaara had, by stumbling across Neji, stepped out of his ordained place and crossed the border onto Naruto's territory. The act was somewhat similar to if Naruto would have aced all his finals and graduated with better grades than Gaara. The redhead could sympathise with the frustration.

'_And yet this is different'_, he mused, _'what is he expecting me to do? Live my life forever in his shadow? Embrace celibacy?'_, he snorted, _'only date ugly guys whom Naruto wouldn't want?'_

Naruto, however, had never showed any signs of possessing a stunningly logical reasoning. He usually handled his problems on intuition alone, and this would be no exception. The blonde felt tricked and frustrated, maybe even left out, and it caused his behaviour to turn sour and hostile. In fact; Naruto was probably doubly unsettled due to him not understanding his own actions and emotions. Acting only on a fleeting feeling of betrayal Naruto had turned cold and distant.

'_Well…'_,Gaara sighed and lit another cigarette –he'd have to buy new ones soon , _'at least that's one mystery less. If ever it was truly a mystery.'_

As he was closing that chapter in his mind he became aware of something hovering in the distant perimeters of his thoughts. An itching sensation he recognised as a revelation of some sort, a view he had yet to see. He concentrated on it, almost felt as it crawled closer to his conscious.

'_Why does Naruto's short temper and denial… seem familiar?'_, he nearly stood up from the bench –the way one tend to do when the force of a thought reaching home becomes too great for the mind to contain –when it dawned on him: _'because I'm doing the exact same thing.'_

The irony in this realisation didn't pass unappreciated. His reasons for being angry with Naruto were a bit hypocritical, seeing as how their other friends didn't seem to be angry with Gaara. He had noticed, in the way he usually did, that his actions towards their wide array of acquaintances had changed over the course of the last few months. But, like so many other of his observations, he had simply stored it in the far recesses of his mind. Gaara felt a familiar rush of annoyance mixed with frustration and understanding at this. He often thought of his own brain as a structure –littered with rooms, nooks and crannies –in which the front rooms were large and impressive, filled with recent events and thoughts, and in which the back was a maze of hallways with a myriad of small, strange spaces occupied by cabinets and archives. Each time he made a reflection it appeared in the front rooms. As time passed, if he did not take the time to examine it, it would slip further and further in. Past the medium-sized contemplative areas, down the rickety stairs of distant recalls and finally ending up in the massive library of archived knowledge where he wouldn't be able to find it unless –as in the current case –he stumbled upon it.

Angry at himself for noticing sooner, he kept up his train of thought. As of late, he had begun to feel cold towards his friends, with a few exceptions. He had noticed this, he had known every time he made a snide remark or a joke slightly too cruel, that something must lie behind it. And now he knew exactly what. They annoyed him beyond reason. Gaara groaned; why did one problem solved always lead to another being unearthed? That Gaara's own feelings were a reflection of Naruto's though on a completely different matter was… unexpected to say the least. He was irate at himself for not realising it.

Still, his irritation regarding the others was easily explained. Gaara was an intelligent species, and also a brooding one. He had spent most of his life on his own, with plenty of time to form theories and ponder other's behaviour. This was one of the main reasons why he was such an accomplished player. The last few years, however, he had spent as a part of the social dance, not simply as an unbiased spectator. It had been instructive and intriguing to find himself in the middle of the violent torrent often referred to as 'social life'. But he had reached the limit where it stopped being novel and begun being vexing. No longer did he find any interest in watching his friends' verbal sparring matches, or Ino's constant gossiping. Instead, he missed the company of solitude and conversation with intellectual equals. With a few exceptions, mainly Shikamaru and Sakura, the rest of his network were quite normally gifted, or in Kiba's case: downright stupid. Though Shikamaru and Sakura would probably be able to fill his need for logical stimulation they held no desire for discussing issues of the world or theorise about the unknown. Shikamaru due to sloth and –Gaara grudgingly admitted –the undeniable fact that the man had no equals in the field, not even Gaara. Sakura since she saw her intelligence as a tool to advance in life, not as a constant ally and weapon. This left Gaara thoroughly uninspired and longing for more challenging companions.

'_Like Neji…'_, once again his train of thought had led him to the heart of the matter. The brunette was no less an enigma than he had been when they first met. What motives did he have? What game did he play? _'What should I be expecting?'_

He already knew the answer to all questions he might have: patience. If Neji had a hidden intention it would reveal itself eventually. It struck Gaara that this match-up might be one of fate's cruel tricks. He had noticed already in _Jinchuuriki_ that they were opposites in the playing field –like morning mist on frozen grounds, contrary yet smoothly connected. In the world of players each had their own flair and put their own spin to the game. Neji's plays –swift, smooth, direct and deadly-accurate was the kind that worked wonders in conversation, meetings and brief exchanges. It relied on charm and perception, and the fabulous combination of keeping up appearances, provoking fear in your adversaries and never revealing your weaknesses. It was, in many ways, a superior gaming-style. However, it had flaws, as did all game-types. A good player could not only discern what kind of game their opponent was playing, but also find the faults in their manoeuvres.

The main weakness of Neji's game was that it was best applied against strangers or distant acquaintances, it could be used in closer relationships but it took much effort and great skill. It also relied heavily on not giving away any information which might be turned against the player, thus leaving accomplished players with several masks and a speech-pattern which revealed nothing of importance and implied untruthful facts. Neji fit perfectly into this category.

This humoured Gaara greatly. The red-head had spent his life honing the very skills needed to take down this kind of enemy; patience, attentiveness and gathering of information. With enough time he would gather the clues to break the man apart… if he was skilled enough. No matter what game one preferred, it wouldn't help against a greater opponent. If Neji was indeed as skilled as Gaara suspected, he would have plenty of measures to hinder any attack on his person, or his mind.

'_However…'_, Gaara had a fleeting feeling about Neji, based on the man being brought up in an environment where direct plays were highly valued and in most cases necessary. _If_ he was right, then he would have a great advantage over the other man. Great enough perhaps to beat him.

Their constant dance was only one of his concerns, though. Maybe it was the main cause for Neji's interest –and Gaara's –but it was based on a much looser definition: their… relationship? To say he was dating Hyuuga Neji would be incredibly untrue, not to mention naïve. First of all; one date was not incentive enough to believe there would be a second. Second; one did not date Neji. Neji was a gorgeous, rich and famous prodigy with hundreds of models, heirs and heiresses, business-moguls and mortal men and women at his beck and call. Though he reluctantly admitted that it left a burning sense of insignificance, Gaara had no qualms acknowledging the fact that Neji was probably getting hot and heavy with someone else at that very moment.

And in return, he mustn't think of their… relationship? –he really couldn't phrase their arrangement –as anything more than two players fighting a vicious war. He didn't need his excellent mind to tell him that should he get involved with Neji _emotionally_ he would pay dearly for his idiocy. So that left him at square one, patiently watch the other man and enjoy it as long as it lasted. A sarcastic voice which might have been his emotional side wished him good luck. He ignored it, knowing full well that not being affected by the brunette was much easier thought than done.

'If_ there ever is another date, or another chance to meet him'_, he reminded himself, _'mustn't get carried away…'_ _if_ their little romance continued, however, he would make sure to start playing his own game and not merely countering Neji's. He felt a thrill in his mind at the thought of battling the brunette once more. Of all the aspects of the man, his mind for playing was by far the most attractive. Despite his divine looks and untouchable status… it was the manipulative devil underneath that truly drew Gaara in. And would they resume their game, Neji would be in for a surprise. Gaara grinned.

Neji might be a master at direct control, but Gaara was a master of concealed deceit.

* * *

"_Of _course_ you're coming with us! You ditched us Wednesday didn't you?"_

That was what Ino had chirped at Gaara when he had called Naruto earlier that evening. Not only had the wrong blonde answered the phone, he was now being dragged along for another night of meaningless drinking, mainly –he suspected –because the others in general and Ino in particular were not yet satisfied with his retelling of Wednesday night's events.

'_Oh youth'_, he found himself thinking sarcastically while their pre-party broke up to head out to the simmering nightlife of Konoha city, _'how flighty and utterly pointless it is.'_

"How about we try _Jinchuuriki _again?", Ino twittered when they'd reached the bus-stop nearest Chouji's house on _North Hill_. Kiba rolled his eyes.

"As we proved last time", he replied, "one does not simply walk into _Jinchuuriki_", Naruto sniggered drunkenly at the _Lord of The Rings_-reference, "well, unless your name is Gaara", Kiba finished with a barking laughter. Ino sniffed.

"Where to then?", she demanded of the tipsy group. After much humbling-mumbling and a few completely-off-subject remarks they finally agreed on _Hachibi. _With their goal more or less firm in their minds they boarded the bus. Gaara hadn't had much to drink, feeling rather put-off partying for the night, and though it meant that his lavishly intoxicated friends grated on his nerves it also kept his brain un-befuddled, granting him the underestimated gift of clear thought. In other words: he could avoid answering questions about Neji.

He had actually been surprisingly successful at this, skilfully changing the subject anytime it seemed to slip closer to exploring his newly found love-interest. But, alas, all good thing come to an end and just when he had passed the initial hurdle of the evening and thought himself safe –they would soon be at a club blasting music at unhealthy volumes and his companions had long since left stimulating conversation and delved into drunken nonsense-discussions –the bomb fell. A blonde, drunk and slightly annoyed bomb.

"Gaara?", Sakura was the one who initiated the catastrophe. She wasn't as intoxicated as the others, but seemed to have settled for a slight unbalance for the evening. Gaara grunted in reply, trying to regain the mental control that had slipped away from him. He had decided earlier that evening to be more wary when speaking to the others, and to try not being deliberately –or accidentally –mean to them. "Well", Sakura continued tentatively, "I understand that you don't want to talk about it but… even if you only met him once… Neji…", but she never got any farther than that, by mentioning the Hyuuga she had successfully captured the others' interest and Naruto in particular seemed ready to state his mind. Sensing an impending disaster, Gaara furiously tried to capture the eyes of his best friend but failed spectacularly –partially because Naruto's eyes were unfocused and he swayed slightly on his seat as the bus cruised down the streets of central city, and partially because what little focus remained in the blonde's eyes were completely set on Sakura.

"Once?", Naruto snorted disbelievingly, "yeah right! Were on a cosy little date yesterday weren't they?", he nearly fell forward as the bus came to a halt at _Flame's Crossing_, "surprised they're not cooped up together righ' now", he ended spitefully. It certainly had what Gaara could only assume to be the desired effect: the rest of the party, even Shino, assaulted him with every one of the questions he did _not _want to answer.

"_When did he ask you out?"… "You had _coffee_ with him? When?"… "How did he get your number?"… "Dinner? Where?"…"Tell us everything _right now_!"… "You _do _know the rumours about him, right?"…"Did you meet the Uchihas again?"…"_Why_ didn't you tell us?"…"I can't believe…" _It continued while they left the bus and started towards _Hachibi_. Surprisingly, it was Ino who came to his rescue, finishing off all arguments:

"Honestly, you'd think you lot have some respect for his privacy!", she chided, a spectacular contradiction since she herself was the one who usually challenged other's right to personal space, "Gaara's a big boy you know! So he's dating Hyuuga Neji?", she glanced at the red-head, "for which I am incredibly jealous, by the way", she added before turning back to the rest of the group, "Gaara knows what he's doing! He knows not to get his feelings involved", she glowered at Naruto, "and quite frankly: whom Gaara dates is absolutely none of our business!", and with those words of finality she stalked off towards the club.

Gaara felt a warm gratitude and certain fondness towards the arrogant girl. Mostly, Ino was just a conceited, gossip-mongering, superficial and not very academically bright young lady, but every now and again she made a lasting impression. Gaara had suspected for a long time that if Ino redirected her mind-power from petty rumours to actual study, she might have scored excellently on her finals. Right now, though, he was grateful that she kept up her uncanny aptitude for social and emotional awareness.

'_Could it be that I don't find her as irritating as I originally thought?'_, he mused as he watched her sweep away with swaying hips, _'…It may.'_

* * *

Gaara finally received his drink from an overwhelmed bartender and turned to assess the room. _Hachibi_ was swamped tonight, the neon lights temporarily illuminating patches of the floor where indiscernible figures were grinding against each other in the misty smoke from the machines. His usual Gin&Tonic had cost him ten minutes of waiting, leaving him with no clue where his friends might have disappeared to. He languidly sipped his drink, amusing himself by trying to find them.

'_I spy with my little eye…'_, he thought dryly –apparently his sarcastic humour was over the top today… _'Ino dancing on the top floor'_, he was thoroughly un-marvelled as he watched the blonde girl's silhouette tightly entwined with an unidentified male on the highest level of the dance floor. His gaze wandered across the club in search of a more suitable companion to finish his drink with.

'_I spy…'_, he thought again, _'Kiba trying to impress a voluptuous blonde'_, he rolled his eyes and wished the brunette the best of luck –the girl was way out of his league, _'and_ _Naruto in the corner with yet another random guy'_, he was, once more, completely unfazed. It was a rule more than an exception to see Naruto making intimate new associates, and for once, Gaara felt no envy towards his blonde friend. Ceasing his assessment of Naruto's choice of partner for tonight before he saw something emotionally scarring –not that the verbal account he'd receive tomorrow wouldn't give him nightmares –he looked for the rest of the group.

'_I spy with my little eye…'_, he had to search much longer to find his less conspicuous friends, _'Ah. Shikamaru and Sakura enjoying a drink at a secluded table. And they even look fairly sober…'_, he slithered through the mob of people and sat down with them. Chouji and Shino were nowhere to be seen, but Gaara had no doubt they would arrive at the table sooner or later. It was one of the few golden spots in the club where one could have something almost similar to a conversation. Soon enough Chouji, Shino arrived at the table carrying four drinks.

From what little Gaara could pick up from the others they seemed to engage in a very unserious argument about whether or not Hercules was gay –instigated by Sakura commenting on Naruto's latest conquest. How the subject had been twisted from that to a not very noteworthy theological discussion about the sexuality of men from ancient Greece, Gaara didn't know and honestly, didn't bother investigating. He settled for refraining himself from making a remark on how the entire conversation was void since _Hercules_ was in fact the roman adaption of the Greek _Heracles._ Shikamaru, too, seemed to stay clear of the subject and Gaara strongly suspected that the brunette boy had come to the same conclusion as he –it was not worth the effort.

Time is a peculiar thing. It can pass as swiftly as a lightning across murky skies or as sluggishly as a river long since reduced to a muddy sludge. In clubs, Gaara found, time nearly seemed an illusion. There was no measuring how many drinks, how many flickers of colourful lights and wandering hands made the evening draw to a close. At times the phase between entering the frantic scene and leaving it appeared as long and dull as a week of unpleasant surprises, other times it was as short and sweet as a spring-morning following months of winter chill. And sometimes, like tonight, it was a bitter-sweet fusion. He was sure the night had ended before they left the small table and continued to the dance-floor, and still not much time could have passed at all. And yet whilst surrounded by his friends –Naruto and Ino now included given that they had both left their temporary amour –and moving in the mass of bodies like one multiple unit, time went much too fast.

And so, it was already two in the morning when Gaara left for his third smoke for the night, accompanied by the girls who both claimed to be 'strictly party-smokers'. As they stepped outside the redhead let out a sigh of relief and delight as the cool night-air caressed them. Even the warm summer wind felt soothing after the mass of sweaty, searing bodies in the club. Ino and Sakura –both having nicked a cigarette from Gaara –revelled in the sudden drop in volume by striking up conversation as soon as they opened the door to fresh air.

"Is it decided then?", Sakura asked while lighting her smoke, "tomorrow?" She handed the pink lighter to Ino who struggled against the wind to light her own cigarette.

"Yeah", the blonde answered with the white cylinder pressed between her plump lips. Gaara decided to stay silent. Whatever they were planning, they had somehow managed to do it in the explosive sound of the club since they only needed to affirm it when they could finally communicate normally again.

"Why don't you come too, Gaara?", Sakura turned to him with a small smile, her eyes slightly unfocused. Ino nodded and took a long drag, breathing smoke out of her nose.

"Where?", he asked conversationally. Sakura gushed in a most un-Sakura like manner, credited to the last three tequila shots.

"We're going shopping tomorrow!", she said gleefully. Gaara resisted the urge to grimace; why did all girls assume that homosexuality was code for 'girl with male genitalia'? Still, the change of pace might do him good, and it had been a long time since he did something with the lot of them besides consuming copious amounts of coffee or alcohol, so he nodded in agreement.

"Brilliant", Ino slurred, "you can help us pick out shoes." This time Gaara _did _grimace. "Oh, and you can pick something out for your next date with Neji", Ino added teasingly with a giggle, "I can't believe you've finally got yourself some action! And with _Hyuuga Neji_, I didn't think you had it in you… you'd better be a good housewife so you don't lose him", she winked suggestively at him, which Gaara took as a cue that it was time to leave the girlish atmosphere. With a muttered excuse of heading to the bathroom he disposed of the cigarette butt in a pot near the door and left. Inside the club the heat and the music seemed ten times as bad as it had upon leaving it but he still pressed on through the crowd in search for Naruto.

When he found him, however, the blonde was once more tangled up with a stranger and quite blind to his surroundings. Gaara felt a familiar annoyance flare up in his gut at the sight and Ino's words burned in his mind.

"…_can't believe you've finally got yourself some action! …didn't think you had it in you…"_

Was he really _that_ much of a sexual defect? Did the others think he was a loser who couldn't get a man? Did they laugh at him for never having had a relationship? A voice in his head told him it was the alcohol talking but he found himself ignoring it in favour of the rage that had set itself alight somewhere in his midriff.

"…_better be a good housewife so you don't lose him."_

The fury in Gaara's stomach coiled and hissed. _Housewife?_ The rational voice in his mind told him Ino had been joking, and that she meant no offence by any of it –Gaara snarled at it to be quiet. So his friends didn't think he deserved Neji? That the brunette was far too good for him and that he should be thanking his lucky star as long as it lasted? True, Gaara had been having similar thoughts, though he had deliberately shoved them out of his way whenever they surfaced. He was just as good as Neji.

'_I'll show them!'_, he thought aggressively, faintly aware that his no-drink policy had gone down the drain… or his throat –literally. And with flashing images of his friends laughing cruelly at his inexperience and Neji smirking arrogantly while he chatted up a faceless beauty at _Jinchuuriki_'s bar, he set off through the mass of scantily-dressed bodies.

* * *

'"_To be social is to be forgiving"'_, Gaara reminded himself with colossal effort when he was woken at half past eight by the shrill noise of his phone going off. He fumbled through the fabric surrounding him, searching for it, and nearly groaned out loud when he saw the name flashing across the screen. _'Be nice'_, he chastised himself, _'remember to be pleasant.'_

"Yes Ino?", he answered silkily, realising that his voice –thick with sleep –had come out as deadly and smooth as poison. Oh well, at least he tried. Miffed at his lack of self-control, he listened at Ino's insolently chipper voice:

"Good morning! We're picking you up in an hour and a half, okay? Shikamaru didn't drink that much last night and he has his dad's car so we don't have to take the bus…", Gaara felt like executing himself –the shopping! Oh gods above why did he ever agree to that?

"Yeah", he answered weakly while he untangled himself from his bed sheets, "see you then." He hung up and subsequently darted to the bathroom to throw up. After up-heaving whatever contents were left in his stomach from the night before he collapsed on the tile floor, relishing in the cool surface against his feverish skin.

"That you in there lil' brother?", came Kankuro's voice, muffled by the door. Gaara grunted in affirmative. "Woke me up…", his brother grumbled through the wood, from the sound of it, Kankuro's morning was on par with Gaara's. Pushing himself off the floor he wobbled over to the door and opened it. His brother's eyes were blood-shot and a bit glazed as he looked down at the red-head sympathetically. "Wild night?" Gaara nodded weakly in reply.

"In…", he glanced at the time on his phone, "a little over an hour… I'm…", he shuddered, "…going shopping." Kankuro looked nearly as ill as he at the prospect of devoting a day –which any sensible man would spend on the couch watching re-runs –on _shopping._

"Oh", his older brother's voice was meek with nausea, "you sorry bastard." Gaara couldn't argue with that. "Uh…", the brunette continued, "'Mari's not home… emergency at work or somethin'. I met her on my way in this mornin'…", Kankuro looked as if his greatest wish was to topple back into bed, so it was a sign of how much his brother actually cared when he said: "take a shower, I'll make coffee… and dig up some aspirins…", he turned and left.

Gaara locked the door and tried to forcibly stop his arms and legs from quivering. Discarding his clothes –had he fallen asleep without changing? –he stepped into the shower. He was in the process of trying to piece together what exactly went down the night before when he was interrupted by a soft knock on the door and felt his blood freeze. That knock was far too soft to be his brother's.

Gaara enjoyed living with his siblings, he really did. It entitled him to a freedom few of his age enjoyed. Waking up with the hangover of a century and not needing to worry about the reactions of overbearing parents, but instead sharing his misery with his brother. Never being distressed about having a dictatorial authority in the house since the three of them made most decisions together. Eating whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted and having friends over anytime. Staying up all night if it pleased him… and if he decided to throw the party of the decade, both his sibling would be thrilled rather than infuriated. It did have one downside, however. And this one setback was always as unpleasant and unexpected. Rinsing the last traces of conditioner out of his hair, he turned towards the door where a suave female voice was slithering through the wood and assaulting his ears.

"_Kankuro…_", the woman outside the door murmured seductively, "Care for some… company?", Gaara quickly turned the shower off, dried himself at top speed and dressed –with disgust –in the clothes from the night before. If he had to face his brother's _lady friend_ he'd prefer to do so while clothed. "Kankuro?", the woman questioned. Gaara reached out, unlocked the door and swung it open, carefully arranging his face to one of utter disinterest.

It wasn't the first time he'd had encounters like this in his house, but they never ceased to embarrass him. The only comfort he had was that the girl in the hallway was even more flustered then he. Colour rising in her face, she mumbled something undecipherable and hurried down the corridor to Kankuro's room.

When Gaara had, with much effort and a migraine throbbing on the inside of his skull, changed his attire and finished applying the black lines around his eyes, he descended the stairs and shuffled into the kitchen. The feeling of nausea peaked uncomfortably when the smell of toast attacked him. Who in their right mind would _eat_ when they were hungover? He glanced at the time on the oven –_09:34_ –and filled the largest mug in the house to the brim with delicious liquid caffeine. Kankuro and his bird –she was the one eating, Gaara noted with a surge of unwarranted hatred –already sat at the table, his brother with a cup nearly as huge as Gaara's. Plopping down on an empty seat, he reached for the box of aspirins poised at the centre of the table and downed two pills with his first gulp of coffee.

Since no-one in their family ever spoke before noon unless forced to, quiet at the breakfast table was good manners rather than bad. This morning, however, the silence was tangible –stretching out between the three youngsters. The girl –Gaara now saw that she had a mane of blackish hair and dark wide, dark eyes –resolutely refused to look at him. Meanwhile, Kankuro looked distinctly pale and unfocused giving Gaara the impression that their bathroom might see another youth get sick before the morning bled into day.

Time dragged on painfully while the brothers downed their coffee and the girl languidly munched her toast. At five to ten Gaara rose from his seat and bade the couple goodbye with a wave, answered by his brother through a grunted "bye". The girl, on the other hand, started and finally looked him in the eye, her cheeks dusted pink while she did so.

"Uh… It was nice meeting you", she said nervously. Kankuro looked a little more awake at these words –as though realising for the first time that the two of them had never actually been introduced.

"Oh…", he said blankly, "uh… Kin, this is my brother Gaara, Gaara this is Kin." The red-head felt that a slightly more elaborate presentation would have been welcome, but decided not to comment on it. Instead, he nodded once to Kin –who looked flustered –and hurried out of the room.

Gaara had just slipped into his sneakers when a loud honk declared the arrival of his friends. Shikamaru's dad's car was waiting by the curb, its green exterior reflecting the bright light from the morning sun. He walked across the lawn to reach it and slipped in, settling on the vacant seat next to Sakura in the back. She greeted him with a tired smile –apparently Gaara wasn't the only one who'd had a rough morning. Ino, on the other hand, looked as perky as she had sounded on the phone and welcomed him by abandoning the monologue she appeared to have been directing at Sakura to instead fix her attention on him. Shikamaru who, bless him, looked worse for wear than he usually did at ten in the morning, started the car and set off along the street.

"You had a nice evening last night, hm, Gaara?", Ino said in a mischievous voice and turned around in the front seat to look at him. Gaara settled for glaring at her rather than replying –the gratitude he had felt for her the previous evening all but disappeared as she fell into her usual role as the girl who must know and prod at _everything_. "Quite the snogging session", she continued, undoubtedly trying to rile him up enough to answer. Gaara felt something in his stomach flip unpleasantly as memories of the previous night raced through his mind like slides in a picture show.

His anger and frustration, along with no small amount of alcohol, had driven him onto the dancefloor in search for a suitable victim. He vaguely recalled finding someone on the mid-level and engaging in a god-knows how long public show of sexual prowess. It hadn't ended until the guy had suggested they leave and Gaara had realised that he did not –no matter the rage and intoxication –want to sleep with him, and furthermore, that it was three o'clock in the morning and the club was due to close at any minute. Having Ino remind him of mistakes that he had tried to push into the farthest depths of his mind-archives was not the way he wanted to spend a hangover like this…

"Ino", he said wearily, "can we not discuss this right now?" Ino looked like she had a thing or two to argue before she left the subject, but Shikamaru cut in and ended any reply by asking:

"Where do you want to go?", Gaara marvelled at how easily the slothful teen redirected the blonde's attention. Ino, Shikamaru and Chouji had been friends since before any of them could remember –their parents were close, hence they had to spend their childhood in each other's company –and Shikamaru was the only person Gaara had ever encountered who was fully capable of stopping the girl when she went on a rampage. Following this to all spectators innocent question, Ino turned the subject onto an entirely different path and engaged Sakura in a heavy argument about what stores were more important and what part of the central shopping-district they should visit first.

The argument, Gaara mused some three hours later, was completely irrelevant since it seemed the girls were set on stopping at every tiny insignificant shop in Konoha. They had spent half an hour's worth of agonising boredom while the girls shopped for lingerie, an additional hour and a half in the fashionable clothing stores of _Stream Square_, and were now stuck in the great Rokubi-complex since twenty minutes. Ino and Sakura showed no intention of leaving anytime soon, instead they constantly whipped new clothing from the racks, examined it and asked for the other's approval. Gaara's brief hope that he might be able to do some shopping himself had shattered two hours ago and he was now tired, miserable and wishing for the girls to just _finish_. Ino extracted a blue dress from the hidden depths of a stack of fabric and held it up against herself with one hand while the other gripped a red one possessively.

"I can't decide!", she pouted, "I need a dress for my date Wednesday", she confided in Sakura for the fifth time, "should I take this blue one or-", she lifted the other dress, "this one, what do you think?" Sakura eyed the dresses with the same intense interest as she had the last four times Ino had faced her with an ultimatum about the attire for her date. This seemed to be a ritual of some sorts that girls found highly rewarding, for it never ended. None of the other outfits had managed to please Ino in the end, and these –Gaara was sure –were no exception.

"Well…", said Sakura thoughtfully, "you look really good in blue…", she pinched the cloth of the blue dress between her forefinger and thumb and pierced it with a scrutinising look.

"I know", Ino interrupted, "but the red one feels more classy, don't you think?", Shikamaru, who was leaning against a clothing rack a few paces away with closed eyes, sunk deeper into the hanging garments, "but the blue one has a nice cleavage…", Ino glared at the red dress, "…and I bet this one looks a bit slutty on, look at the cut! But this one…", she turned her gaze to the blue dress once more, "…is a bit prudish, and it seems a bit loose…", she looked at both dresses with distaste. It was then that Gaara realised that he was sentenced to die in these clothing stores and that Ino would probably convince him to become a ghost for her sake –and then they would all roam the shops of Konoha for ever, hunting for Ino's perfect outfit. Filled with dread at these prospects, he sprung to action in fully fledged panic. Turning to the right he quickly raffled through the mass of dresses and skirts and disentangled a black dress from the row. It would have to do. Turning back to the girls who were now assuring themselves that neither the blue nor the red were possible attires, he thrust the black cloth at Ino.

"Here", he said hastily, "this one. It's black so it will complement whatever your date is wearing and it fits in nearly every environment." He drew a breath and continued, thanking his lucky star he had an older sister so he knew all important aspects of female fashion, "it's short enough to show off your legs, meaning that it doesn't need a deep cleavage, and you'll look suggestive without looking cheap. This, a pair of high heels and some silver accessories and you'll look stunning." Ino and Sakura looked stunned for a moment, and then Ino tittered:

"_It's perfect_! I knew you would be useful!", she hugged the dress tightly to her chest, "I'm going to try this on, are you coming Sakura?", the other girl hurriedly gathered the things she wanted to try and followed Ino to the changing rooms.

"We'll be outside!", Shikamaru, awake at last, yelled after them. He turned to Gaara and muttered: "come on, I need a smoke… and an escape plan."

On the street outside the Rokubi building they both fished a packet of cigarettes from their pockets and reclined against the wall. Shikamaru looked positively dreadful, slumped over and leaning heavily on the shiny surface.

"How did you do that?", he wondered as he lit the _Lucky Strike_ perched between his lips, casting a sideway glance at Gaara, "she never listens to me." He needn't say who he was talking about. Too long ago the redhead had realised his intelligent friend's surprising attraction to the social explosion that was Ino, and anyone and their grandmother knew that she was the only one who could force Shikamaru to involve himself in matters he didn't wish to. Like shopping. Gaara's lips quirked up to form a sarcastic smile.

"It's one of the benefits of being gay", he said, "girls automatically assume you have good taste." He stared at the busy street –Rokubi's location was in the most high-demand area in Konoha– "It's ridiculous really… I have some clue since I've lived with my sister for nineteen years, but far from all homosexual men are fashion gurus…", he snorted, "I mean –look at Naruto." Even Shikamaru laughed at that; Naruto's sense of style was quite good, but they were all convinced that he had to be colour-blind.

"Good point." Shikamaru said, "All that orange…", he sighed in a manner of complete resignation which only Shikamaru could achieve, "we're not leaving until the stores close, are we?" Gaara shook his head in negative.

"It surprises me you would even come along in the first place", he answered. Shikamaru stared at a piece of gum stuck on the pavement and mumbled something about Ino needing a driver and troublesome women. Gaara decided not to pursue the subject further, partially because he knew it would transform Shikamaru from a pleasant companion to a sulking one, and partially since he had enough issues of his own. On principle, he tried not to probe in other's private matters, he chose to simply observe and remember them. So, he shrugged noncommittally and took another drag from his cigarette. Shikamaru turned his head to look at the red-head and the every-present buzz of intelligence behind his eyes shone through. Gaara stared back in silence. It was rare for Shikamaru to openly assess someone, and when he did he usually finished by stating some sort of uncomfortable truth. Two years earlier he had told Kiba that the reason for his extrovert personality was that the presence of two extremely dominant women in his home had made him unconsciously questioned his masculinity. Though, in fairness to both Shikamaru and Kiba, Shikamaru had been startlingly drunk and Kiba had punched him in the face. Now, however, Gaara found himself on the receiving end of Shikamaru's analysing gaze. He had often wondered what kind of player Shikamaru would be, but although he was certain the brunette saw the game as clearly as he did, he seemed disinterested in it. Shikamaru's stare suddenly weakened and became mollified and the tense awareness of danger Gaara had felt dissipated.

"You know", Shikamaru said, "that's what I like about you.", he exhaled a cloud of smoke, "You're not a troublesome bastard." Gaara grinned at his shoes; that was as close to an intellectual acknowledgement one could get from Shikamaru.

"Glad you feel that way", he answered truthfully. It wasn't often that people thought better of his antisocial ways than of Naruto's or Ino's intuitive understanding, but then Shikamaru differed quite a lot from the norm. It wasn't that Gaara disliked helping his friends, but he had always detested nosy busybodies who tried to solve his troubles without neither an invitation nor even reluctant consent. Instead he enjoyed being left alone with his problems until _he_ chose to _ask_ for help. Shikamaru, Gaara had always figured, seemed to harbour similar views, which meant that he was one of the few people Gaara actually would feel comfortable confiding in.

"Yeah… me too", Shikamaru mused aloud, flicking his cigarette butt on the ground, "you seem to have enough trouble lately", before Gaara could discern the depths of whatever Shikamaru meant by that, the brunette turned towards the doors of the Rokubi-building and was saying: "Back to the pits of despair then. Let's not forget they haven't even started on shoes yet…" Gaara groaned and followed him as he opened the door and disappeared into the vast area of merchandise beyond.

* * *

Gaara collapsed on one of the sofas while Ino and Sakura did the same in the two armchairs on the other side of the table. It was four o'clock and they had _finally_ decided to end the shopping and sit down to eat at a restaurant by _Birdsong Square_. They didn't usually eat there but it was nice and though the food was fairly cheap it tasted fine, plus that in the summer, like now, they had sofas and chairs outside the restaurant so you could enjoy the warmth. Shikamaru had gone to order their meal, and since the girls were now comparing their purchases Gaara took the time to immerse himself in self-pity. His feet ached, his head throbbed and his eyes might just be in danger of burning through their sockets and into his skull. He looked out at the square; a large group of tourists were photographing the fountain or the large church next to it. Apparently the statue of birds in flight in the centre of the pouring water was worthy of documenting for the grandchildren, especially if you stood in front of it in the photo, smiling like a nutcase on drugs and doing the thumbs-up.

Shikamaru returned with their drinks –they had to wait a while for the pizzas –and he and Gaara both fell into an exhausted silence. The afternoon sun warmed them, a small breeze sweeping through the square and soothing Gaara's aching head. A sense of contentment filled him, making even the girls' chattering more bearable. He leaned backwards on the sofa, tilted his head to rest on the back and stared up at the azure skies and cotton clouds. He was actually really glad to have spent the day like this, he realised. He rarely devoted his time to others without Naruto present, and because of it most of his social life revolved around the blonde. It was a pleasant change to be alone with the others even if he had been dreadfully bored most of the day. It was odd really, he thought as he watched the others grumble about the food not arriving soon enough, that he knew so much about these people and yet didn't really know _them._

He also considered a thought which had come to him during the day: many of his friends were gamers –which in itself was an unusual occurrence –and the three seated with him around the small glass table were _all _players. Shikamaru, though reluctant to use his skills, saw all plays in motion around him. His intellect and passive approach had alarmed Gaara at first, and he knew even now that the brunette was dangerous. Sakura was no beginner either, she was a fierce player when she wanted to be –and of the same direct kind as Neji, he knew. She didn't have the ability to analyse that Shikamaru had, but she was perilous when she was on the offensive. Ino, on the other hand, was an unconscious player. She didn't see or understand the rules of the game. Instead, she felt it and acted on these feelings instinctively. Gaara suspected that Naruto too was an unconscious player, but sometimes he had the feeling that perhaps he was giving his best friend too little credit, that Naruto was in fact a more accomplished and conscious player. Though neither Shino, Chouji or Kiba were players that still made the total count of gamers in the group five out of eight.

'_Should it bother me?'_, but Gaara never had the time to answer his own question; the food had arrived and while they dug in on the first slices Ino forcefully dragged him into the conversation:

"Now, Gaara. About Neji…", she swallowed a piece of her extra-pepperoni-extra-cheese, with relish, "…you told us you went out with him but I still don't understand how that happened." Gaara chewed on his own pizza thoughtfully. He would have to spill the beans sooner or later, why not now? And since Naruto wasn't there he didn't have to worry about his best friend's emotional anguish.

"He asked me out", he answered slowly, "and I said yes."

"So you're going out?", Sakura asked. Gaara considered lying, but decided there was no actual need to. These were not friends who were envious of him, he thought bitterly, and so he didn't have to hide anything from them. He was aware that the rift between him and Naruto was widening by the hour but he pushed the knowledge out of his mind to focus on the present.

"I don't know", he replied, "We went out Friday but I don't know if it'll be a next time. And we're definitely not exclusive." He added with a cynical twist of his lips. Ino laughed.

"I sure hope not the way you were acting last night", she said good-naturedly, "but _if _he asks you out again, that would be great!" Gaara didn't have time to register her approval before Sakura had agreed and Shikamaru had muttered something akin to "wouldn't be too troublesome". Fascinated that they would be happy for him –the complete reverse reaction as Naruto –he gladly answered their questions about the date, though he left out the conversation outside the restaurant and all references to the game.

"You are so _lucky_", Ino whined, "Why can't I find a man like that?" Gaara was decidedly quiet and judging by the look on Sakura's face she wasn't oblivious to Shikamaru's one-sided love either.

"I went on one date", he protested instead, "I'm not about to marry him." The very idea of going steady with Neji seemed ridiculous. They were at war –a very sexual, exciting war, but a war nonetheless.

"One date with Hyuuga Neji is something you can boast about your whole life, Gaara", said Ino seriously, "it is your proudest moment…", at those words, the rest of the company all broke into hysterical laughter.

"Maybe for you, Ino", Sakura said with a wide grin on her face when they had stopped laughing, "but as for the rest of us, we have higher ambitions in life."

"Huh", Ino huffed, "so you're saying I'm not go-getting enough?"

"You're definitely not lacking in determination", said Shikamaru, "just in prioritising." Even Ino laughed this time, and Gaara realised that Sakura and Shikamaru had successfully steered them away from the subject of Ino's future husband.

'_They are a well-trained duo…'_

It was nearing five thirty and the group had long since finished eating, but neither of them felt inclined to leave. A sleepy end-of-a-long-day conversation was keeping them in their seats and the weather was still pleasant to sit still in. Gaara's cell phone buzzed in his pocket.

"It's probably Naruto", said Ino sluggishly, "he texted me earlier and I told him we were out shopping." Gaara fished his phone out of his jeans, was Naruto cross at him for not calling all day? They usually had coffee the day after drinking but it had slipped Gaara's mind completely when faced with six hours of intense shopping. But the display wasn't flashing Naruto's name at him:

_New message From: H. Neji_

He shot straight up in his seat, alarming the others. With a mixed sense of expectation and dread he opened the message:

_Are you free Tuesday evening?  
-Neji_

"What is it?", Sakura asked worriedly. Ino had sat up straighter and Shikamaru had opened his eyes. Gaara shook his head.

"Nothing", he said unconvincingly while he typed a positive response.

"Uh-huh", Ino drawled, "and the new Gucci-collection is 'passable'." The fine points of the sarcasm went right over the heads of both him and Shikamaru, but there was no mistaking the tone. Gaara sighed.

"It was Neji", immediately both girls were at the edges of their seats, looking eager.

"Really?"

"What did it say?"

"He just-", Gaara began but was cut off when his phone vibrated again.

_New message From: H. Neji_

_Good. Rigoletto. I'll pick you up at 7._

Gaara couldn't contain his smile. _Rigoletto_. The man knew him better than he would like to admit.

"He just what?", Sakura demanded expectantly. Gaara looked up at the girls across the table.

"He's taking me to the opera on Tuesday", he told them, enjoying the effect of his words. The day had turned out brilliantly, and watching Ino and Sakura's exaltation only made it better. His moment of satisfaction was soon punctuated, however, by Ino who finished off a long tirade of excited gibberish with:

"Of course! You'll need new clothes!", she checked the time on her phone, "c'mon we still have little more than an hour before the shops close!", she ushered them all up and left a hefty sum on the table. Shikamaru threw Gaara a dirty look.

"Sorry", the red-head muttered, "I didn't realise this would happen…"

"Troublesome", Shikamaru grumbled, and then they were off.

* * *

Gaara arrived at home with a bag of new fancy clothes –some of them purchased by Ino(or rather Ino's dad's credit card) with the excuse: "You need to look _classy_ when you're dating a Hyuuga!" After a dinner during which only he and Temari were present –Kankuro had taken another shift at Hashirama –he collapsed on the couch in the living room. He rarely watched television, being more of an internet or books person, but there were exceptions, so after collecting popcorn and coke from the kitchen he returned to the couch and curled up to watch _Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason._ Certainly there were many films both more intellectual and more educational, but sometimes you just need a healthy dosage of a slightly overweight Renée Zellweger tackling extremely odd problems.

"_Friends", _said Renée in the television, _"They spend years trying to find you a boyfriend but the moment you get one they instantly tell you to dump him!"_

'_It's bad'_, thought Gaara, munching on his popcorn, _'when I start relating to movies about mid-age British women.'_

Still, his life seemed to be turning out more and more like a romantic movie, though not a comedy like Bridget Jones, he thought bitterly as he remembered the still unresolved problems he had with Naruto. The appearance of Neji, however, seemed too good to be true.

'_Though'_, he mused, _'I've never seen a movie in which the main attraction between the two lovers is raw manipulative games…'_, he smiled to himself. By inviting him to see _Rigoletto _Neji had made the field for another game, and Gaara was happy to take up the challenge. This time he would be on the lookout for information.

'_And..._', the faces of Ino, Sakura, Naruto, Temari and Shikamaru raced through his mind, _'I think it's time to lay the ground for my own play.'_

But for now, the movie was nearing the end and Gaara felt the heaviness of sleep steal over him. He yawned and rose from the couch to turn off the telly.

'_Tomorrow, I'm doing absolutely nothing.'_ He decided.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the lack of eh… Neji… in this chapter. This was kind of a must-have intermediate to explain more aspects of Gaara's life. When I decided to write this story, I wanted to reflect not only Gaara's relationship with Neji, but all of his life, since I found that otherwise I would not be able to motivate his actions. As such, I hope you will understand and know that the main focus of the story is still Neji, but Gaara's life is an equally important part.**

**AND! This chapter also marks the end of the… prelude of sorts… to the story. From here on, the pace will pick up. Next chapter will mainly focus on Gaara and Neji; and from now on Gaara is playing all-out… LET THE GAMES BEGIN!**

**NOTEWORTHY! I make updates on my profile regarding my stories. If it's taking longer than expected or if I'm off on something I'll write a note to you all:)**

* * *

_Abumi Zaku_ – A ninja from the hidden sound village. He participates in the Chuunin exam and uses sound waves emitting from his hands to fight. (Shino pwns his ass)

_Shigure_ – A ninja of the hidden rain village who appears briefly during the Chuunin exam. Why him you ask? –sniggers- He's the dude Gaara kills ruthlessly… I thought it would be fitting.

_Tsuchi Kin_ – From the village of sound. According to Narutopedia she was 14 at the time of the Chuunin exams(where she died), and Kankuro is reported to have been 14-15 at the same time. In this world that makes her one or no years younger than Kankuro.

_Rigoletto_ – is an Italian opera written by Giuseppe Verdi. Its debut performance was on March 11th 1851.

"_To be social is to be forgiving"_ – Robert Frost (1874 - 1963)

* * *

**Review My dears! Or Little Chibi Kin shall be seducing you through YOUR bathroom door! -Shudders-**


	4. Pure Morning

**Disclaimer: ****I do not, will not, have never, and shall never own **_**Naruto**_**. Nuff said.**

**Fair WARNING: ****Rated M. (sex, drugs, cigarettes, alcohol and bad language.) Yaoi. **

**Pairings: Neji/Gaara**

* * *

**A/N: (My deepest apologies for the lateness of the chapter. Writer's block.)**

**Hello darlings. So, I realised that in my haste to publish the last chapter I accidentally forgot two things: 1. The disclaimer/warning/whatever(I think you'll live without it) BUT I completely forgot to thank those of you sweet enough to answer my DNA-in-tears question. Many hugs and thanks to you!**

**Also, I'd like to send virtual cookies to ALL of you wonderful reviewers –you make my day!(honestly) I would bake y'all real cookies but… well it's sort of impossible to mail them to you… T.T **

**This chapter is for all of you readers! Enjoy it:D**

* * *

_04  
Pure Morning  
"A friend in need's a friend indeed"_

'_Mathbook from grade eight… Scented candle from… eh… wait, I never bought this? Oh well… pens… old notebook from… oh that's the picture I drew in physics, Naruto named it… "Godzilla and the pushy pumpkin pie princess"… somehow the mystery of my low physics grade is so much more obvious now… let's see… books… cards… my essay on world trade from second year… ah here it is!' _

Gaara withdrew from the accumulated mess in his desk's bottom drawer a weathered black notebook. Smirking triumphantly he ignored the disorder on his bedroom floor and sat down on the bedcover, opening the paperback carefully. The notebook was one of those possessions which are invaluable despite being utterly ordinary. A cheap, mass-produced product with no special traits aside from what you attribute to them. This particular book was one of Gaara's most private assets and one he had never shown to anyone else. Mostly since no one else would understand what was written in it.

He referred to it in his head as '_The manual_' and it was a compilation of his life's work. He had begun writing it when he was fourteen, and although barely half of the pages were full he believed it contained more valuable knowledge than any of his old textbooks. The text was an unorganised jumble of short comments, descriptive examples, deep analyses and long scripts –all revised, crossed out, re-written and commented on in the margins. He turned to the first page and looked fondly at the introduction, written so many years ago by the young, angry child he had once been.

_"The Game: Manual_

_Property of: Sabaku Gaara_

_To those inclined to thievery and deceit:  
If you seek what was never yours, be prepared to face what wrath you have never known,  
what vengeance you will learn to fear and what Game you will never win."_

He smiled at the dramatic flair of his younger self, adolescence… _really_. Underneath it, scribbled in a lighter ink and with a more mature and refined handwriting were the words:

_"(You Touch = You Die.)"_

Over the years _The Manual_ had become a less constant part of his life. In the beginning he had brought it everywhere; to school, on vacation, to the hospital… but as he grew older it had been permanently put in his room where he dug it up when he had had a recent revelation or –like now –when he needed to consult it.

A good player kept most facts in his head, but seeing them on paper gave him a more structured overview of what he needed to know, and some notes were things he had conveniently forgotten –or supressed. Turning the page he found the same youthful scribble as in the introduction, erased or altered at places by a steadily more advanced writing. Settling in a more comfortable position on the bed he began to read:

_"The Game, that is to say the battle of minds and wits accompanied by heavy manipulation in which __**some**__ participate, is divided into several steps of awareness. The first of these are unaware players. These players see the patterns and plays of the game intuitively and act without any conscious thought, that is to say, purely on feeling. Most girls seem to engage in this sort of play with one-another. (Most girls are, however, not necessarily players.) The second stage is self-aware players. They see the game, they play and they participate. However, they do not realise that other players exist and as such they often play recklessly. The third is other-aware players. These players know that there are other players, but believe all of them to be equal to themselves. The fourth is aware players who know that there are other players and that they can be both superior and inferior to themselves."_

An addition had been made later on:

_"The fifth is type-aware players who are aware of the different types, rules and restrictions placed upon those who play. They realise that there are different kinds of players and that each has their own weaknesses. The sixth (and connected to the fifth) is self-type-aware players who have identified their own type and style as well as found and taken preventive measures against their own weaknesses. (Additional notes: I will probably find many more steps as time passes. Should buy new notebook and re-write this)"_

'_Well, it's no Nobel-Prize _winner', Gaara smiled wryly, _'but it was never meant to be either.'_ He cruised through the book, reading a passage here and there and noting some of the more naïve comments with dry amusement. About one-fourth into the book he found what he was looking for. The original text was written when he was seventeen and had just discovered the thrilling new world of player types. The additions had been made later, when he had introduced the third type. He was still far from convinced that there were only three, but he had yet to find another. Deeper descriptions occupied several pages, but what he was looking for was the compilation, carefully written and drawn across two pages:

_"Player Types._

_As of now, I have discovered __two__**(Three)**__ types. Each of these is the essence of the extreme and very few, or possibly no, players are completely inclined towards only one of them. Instead, most have a mix of both__**(or all three)**__ and are simply more inclined towards one or the other__**(or the third)**__._

_Direct Type (The Frontfigure)_

_Charming, confident and with at least two faces; the DT is devilishly dangerous in close combat gaming. They are the kings of brief arguments, quick encounters and professional relationships. They do not care to hide the fact that they are players, but their plays are no more apparent than other's. They are sly, secretive and highly skilled at gathering admirers, information and allies. They work alone, they act immediately and they are brilliant at swift and intuitive plays and immediate retaliation. Noteworthy is that the DT rarely pursues his opponents when they have reached their goal and have no interest in causing more destruction than is beneficial to them. (See pro's and con's in the list below)_

_Indirect Type (The Puppetmaster)_

_Two-faced and with a wide network of people –friends, family, acquaintances… –the IT avoids enmity at all costs. The key to their success lies in passing unnoticed by other gamers or else have them believe that their type is a DT __**(or an MT)**__, hence leaving them open to manipulation. Enemies are a great threat to that illusion, and are therefore avoided. The IT acts through others and never takes credit for their plays, the need for a wide network and the right timing to execute their play makes it difficult for the IT to act. Therefore you will most likely find the IT on the same field for a long time, for example a company or organisation where they spend years building up ties and gathering information. Their games, too, are very long-term and can stretch for decades if necessary. Despite being the most emotional player type(that is to say one who plays on and with the emotions of their allies and adversaries) the ITs are very logical, observant and detached. (See pro's and con's in the list below)_

_Mechanic Type (The Scientist)_

_Unnoticeable and very difficult to hinder; the MT is logical, strategic and acts based on fact and knowledge rather than emotions. The MT always has a well-structured plan to execute and their plays are usually long-term. They act out of necessity –if confronted with an obstacle they remove it, but do neither more nor less than required to remove the obstacle –and they never get involved with the constant game of others. They do not make their move until they have enough hard facts to prove their case, though they can sometimes arrange for facts to appear. As thus, their game is usually untraceable or even invisible until the moment of truth –chosen by the MT. They work alone and are rarely emotionally attached to their plays, unfortunately they're also easier to manipulate than other players since they do not guard their emotions. Usually, an MT only plays at work or in school, or other professional environments. (See pro's and con's in the list below)"_

Gaara raised his thin eyebrows at the scribble; it was a bit dramatic compared to reality, but roughly the necessities for gaming. He was fascinated by the fact that the _Direct Type_, written two years prior to his first encounter with Neji, would have made a brilliant summary to a biography about the brunette. This was also the reason he had felt compelled to find _The Manual_ in the first place. To think that he would meet someone who favoured only one of the three types to such extremes was unbelievable. Still, it also meant that Neji would have all of the _Direct Type's_ weaknesses, and he would know them well enough to exploit them expertly.

'_But that's for later'_, he though decisively and placed the book back in the drawer it came from, _'info first.'_

* * *

The sun was brilliant and the leaves green, the flowers blooming and the breeze whistling peacefully in the garden, accompanied by a pleasant orchestra of bumblebees buzzing and tiny birds chirping happily in the far crowns of the beeches. Gaara lounged on the grass, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun and the other clasped securely around his mobile.

'_This would all be a ridiculously idyllic postcard motif'_, he thought dryly, _'where you can't see that the sunlight is stiflingly warm, the insects irritating and the grass itches when you lay in it…'_

He had to call Naruto, a prospect that was usually pleasant but which had become increasingly sour as of late. Not so much due to Naruto's chilly reception as his own, new, habit of hiding things from the blonde.

'_Or perhaps not so much hiding things as not telling him all the details immediately. We've always been one mind in two bodies, and now I'd like some things of my own…'_, he sighed, _'I'm stalling.'_

Naruto sounded slightly out of breath when he answered:

"Hey, hang on… no not that one, the grey one; it's more mature…", he paused and listened to the muffled voice of whomever he was talking to, "well how would I? I'm gay, female underwear is not my area of expertise…", the muffled voice spoke again, more aggravated this time. Naruto's voice turned exasperated: "_you asked me_! Yeah, sorry Gaara, Ino's bitching."

"I am _not_", bellowed Ino in the background. Gaara smiled and felt his mood lighten. Not for the first time he noted that managing relationships is easier if you just do it instead of brooding over the outcome of a conversation or act which hasn't even taken place yet.

"Bad time?", he asked smugly whilst –by the sounds of it –Naruto was avoiding a ferocious attack from Ino on the other end of the line.

"No –_ouch_! –no, I'll just go outside", Gaara could hear the padding of feet on the polished wooden floors of Ino's house and the slam of a door being shut, "there, silence at last!", Naruto sighed appreciatively.

"Like you're one to talk", Gaara remarked, "you're just as loud." Naruto huffed.

"At least I don't throw shoes at people!", Gaara opened his mouth to remind the blonde of several incidents in the past where large quantities of shoe-throwing had been involved but never had the chance as Naruto continued to say: "wait… don't reply to that. Just pretend I didn't say anything."

"At least you didn't deny that you're both equally loud", the red-head said in an amused tone. Naruto sighed again, in resignation this time.

"So why did you call?", he asked, "Except to save me from the wrath of a hormonal woman."

"Right", said Gaara, "why _is_ she asking you for advice on underwear?"

"She has that date tonight", Naruto explained, "the one with the guy from college? Didn't she drag you along shopping for it?" Gaara winced.

"Don't remind me. So that's tonight? Well at least that explains why she had to drag us up in the godforsaken hours of the morning on a Sunday.", He replied. Naruto snorted into the mouthpiece of the phone, creating an echo of derisive mocking across the line.

"Sucker", he chuckled gleefully.

"Says the one who has to help her choose lingerie", Gaara countered, "besides, that's not why I called."

"No?"

"No. We didn't have our usual day-after coffee yesterday, thanks to Ino", said Gaara.

"That's right!", Naruto said with the air of suddenly remembering, "you seemed to have a wild night, hm?" Gaara scowled.

"No worse than yours, that last guy I saw you with… let's just say I hope for your own sanity that you don't remember him."

"I don't", replied Naruto happily, "I was too busy watching that guy try to reach the back of your throat with his tongue."

"Not funny."

"Incredibly funny."

"…Ok, maybe a little." Naruto burst out laughing and Gaara felt the burning shameful feeling that settled in his stomach anytime he thought about Saturday's escapades vanish. He chuckled into the phone.

"Some people we are huh?", Naruto said when their laughter had subsided, "no moral fibre what-so-ever."

"No", said Gaara contently, "I have to tell you about the terror of shopping with Ino and Sakura by the way-"

"-hang on. I've gotta go back inside soon or she'll kill me.", Naruto interrupted.

"Movie night on Wednesday?", Gaara asked, "I'll tell you then."

"Totally", Naruto answered happily, "my house. Dad'll be home late." Gaara realised the call was drawing to a close and he had yet to touch the most sensitive subject.

"By the way, Neji asked me to the opera tomorrow", he said furiously attempting to get everything off his chest.

"Really?", Naruto said, "he sure likes to spend money, doesn't he?" Gaara felt a rush of relief when he realised that his friends tone hadn't changed to the strained, aloof voice it had always morphed into whenever Neji was mentioned before.

"Yeah", the redhead answered, intent on keeping the light tone of the conversation going, "I'll try to make him buy you a car shall I?" Naruto laughed.

"I'm afraid you'll probably have to put out for that one", he said good-naturedly. Sensing the implied question behind the statement, Gaara responded in an equally easy voice:

"Ah, then no car for you. Sorry."

"Good." There was a serious tone in the blonde's voice, a grave and protective promise. The blonde had always been very careful to make sure that Gaara's feelings were never hurt. It comforted him in a way, and annoyed him in another.

"So", he said in an attempt to change the subject and dispel the sombre atmosphere, "do you feel like coming over to my house tomorrow, cause general disruption to my wardrobe, make my hair look like a mess and deny me my rights as a member of a civilised, democratic society to dress as I please?" Naruto laughed.

"Is that what you call it when I come over to help you dress like an earthling? But sure, I'll bring some stuff. We can't let the stuck-up rich people outshine you!", All traces of solemnity were gone and the usual, sunny, Naruto was in place once more. They said their goodbyes and Gaara hung up, but stayed in place on the grass in his garden.

Something had changed the blonde's attitude –Naruto couldn't fool him, nor could he fool Naruto, that well –and the question was _what_ or _who_.

'_Or who and what together?'_

Taking this particular musing and placing it deliberately in a small nook at the front of his mind for further inspection, he stood up and went inside.

* * *

It was one of those days that feel like a lake with still water or a windless summer day, slow but not unpleasantly so. The hours dragged on while he re-read one of his favourite books in the cooling shadows of the garden, and when the evening –chilly after a day in the heat of the sun –interrupted him he simply moved inside and curled up on the sofa to continue. These days are a politicians nightmare; unproductive and in no way contributing to the common wealth. One could also argue that they hold no personal value since one does nothing to improve one's own situation or psychological state. During these days, one does not ponder great things and one does not solve the more earthly issues of everyday life, and one does not mend the fence or clean the living-room. Hence, it is often falsely claimed that these days are a waste of time.

Still, just like a lake or a forest, just like any person or animal on earth, all things need rest. You rest your body and brain while you sleep, but sometimes you need to rest your soul as well. You need to spend time doing absolutely nothing, simply to regain a sense of control, to retract all the strings and attachments that have escaped your barriers and are constantly working on things you'd rather they don't. The parts of you that at any momentary slip of concentration reminds you of an embarrassing event, a job left unfinished, or a friendship in decline. These parts are created by lack of time doing nothing, and when you have no distractions you will find that you must face these side-projects that your mind is keeping busy with and when you do, you will overcome the mental barriers that do nothing but add to stress.

Though, of course, no one really considers lazy days as such. So Gaara spent his day blissfully doing nothing and at the same time coming to terms with certain facts. Like the fact that his drunken mistake Saturday night was over and done with and could not be changed. Or the fact that Neji currently had the upper hand in their game. But that, at least, was something he was able correct.

He first surfaced from his book when Temari called him into the kitchen for dinner. Immersed in his book he had failed to notice not only the arrival of both his siblings, but also the late hour and that he had yet to make the second call he had planned for the day.

He had decided on it while talking to Naruto, for two reasons: one, because it would benefit his game, and two, because he was in reality quite a nice and loyal friend when things came down to it. So, before joining his siblings in the kitchen he retrieved his phone from the table beside the sofa and called Shikamaru.

"Yeah", answered the ever disinterested voice on the other end of the line.

"Hey", said Gaara, "feel like taking a walk later?" It was a gamble of sorts. He and Shikamaru were both people who didn't socialise one-on-one if they didn't have to, so the two of them doing something together had previously never been an option. Still, it happened sometimes at parties or evenings their friends spent together that they would both go for a walk to have a smoke. This night there existed no annoying friends to make them flee the scene, but with Ino on her date and Chouji working night-shift at his father's restaurant Gaara had a feeling Shikamaru could use the distraction.

'_Gaming rule: an accurate gut-feeling is the sign of a good player'_, he thought to himself whilst he waited for Shikamaru's answer.

"…yeah", his friend finally said, "sure." Gaara felt a mixture of satisfaction and a slight worry for his friend. Shikamaru must really be in a slump to go through unnecessary trouble –like walking –to get out of the house.

"Mm", he hummed into the phone, a contemplative noise more than anything else, "my house at nine?", Shikamaru grunted in reply and hung up. Walking towards the kitchen Gaara was caught by the humours irony of the difference between the two phone-calls he had made that day.

'_I think I just had what Kiba might've referred to as a "Manly talk" where no excessive words are needed… which would make Naruto's blabber-mouth a direct consequence of his homosexuality. Though that…'_, he abruptly ended his train of thought when he entered the kitchen and found his siblings locked in a feverish staring competition across the table. Somehow, he had come to terms with the odd life of the Sabaku household –probably through a lifetime of exposure –and he easily identified the tension in the small room as a sure sign of impending danger. Probably of the sort where he had to sit through dinner listening to his brother and sister quarrelling over yet another meaningless subject. Temari, he noted, looked incredibly smug whilst Kankuro seemed to be caught between anger and embarrassment. Hence he drew the conclusion that whatever this was about, Temari was on the offensive.

"So…", he said languidly while he sat down in the empty seat, "do I need to know?" Temari broke eye-contact with Kankuro to focus on her youngest brother.

"I was just asking Kankuro about the girl he was dragging home at half past five in the morning yesterday", she said, smirking smugly, "and he was telling me that I had nothing to do with who or what he drags home. Then I made the point that since I pay for the food and everything else here I have the right to at least know the names of the girls he fucks in my house."

"I'll take that as a 'no'", Gaara answered dryly.

"You're too crude to be a woman", muttered Kankuro.

"And you're more mouse than man if you can't even tell me her name", Temari shot back.

"It's Kin", said Gaara tiredly. Temari gave him a questioning glance and he elaborated by saying: "we met." Kankuro looked distinctly flustered now, surprisingly. Gaara usually considered his brother to be a more successful and accomplished version of Kiba, mostly due to their shared trait of boasting about everything –especially female conquests. Suddenly more intrigued by the dinner-conversation he fixed his green eyes on Kankuro. The last time he had acted embarrassed about a girl was his first (and last) steady relationship. It seemed that men like Kankuro and Kiba became self-conscious only when they had feelings for a woman, which –apparently –was very shameful.

'_Straight men are a bizarre species.'_

"Kin, eh? So how come _Kin _is none of my business?", Temari continued to banter and Gaara immediately lost the sliver of interest he had developed, trusting his common sense to know that there was little more to discover about Kankuro's latest conquest.

* * *

The sun was in the slow process of settling in its night-time home beneath the horizon, leaving the sky a multi-coloured piece of art; a mixture of rich crimson, shady rose, blinding orange and glorious indigo, all underlined by a glimmering chain of pure gold which separated the festival of colours from the distant earth. In these summer evenings when the skies bleed into deep red while the night dyes the dome above a dark, dark blue and the all the world seems to flush pink, he had made many a wonderful memory.

'_Perhaps tonight will be one of them?'_, he mused, glancing at his companion. Shikamaru had parked his car outside the Sabaku's house at ten past nine and the two of them had left, wandering along the curb in silence.

The evening which had seemed cold after a day in the blistering sun was now quite pleasant. A slight breeze teased vegetation in the gardens they passed and chatter and laughter could be heard in the distance from people enjoying the gentle evening with their family or friends.

"Hey", said Shikamaru suddenly, while they turned the corner of another street and started towards Gaara's old elementary school, "have you ever figured it out?" Gaara threw him a brief glance. His friend looked much like he had since Gaara first met him; brown hair pulled up in a high, bushy ponytail, a silver loop glinting in his right ear, a pair of alert, intelligent eyes in an otherwise tired face. Shikamaru was staring up at the sky as they walked, hands thrust down in the pockets of his worn jeans, the large hoodie protecting him from the tiny edge of cold in the air. He had a look on his face that Gaara had scarcely seen him wear, a forlorn, contemplative yet frustrated expression. The redhead, too, turned his gaze to the heavens and watched the slivers of cloud dance across the sunset, the light colouring them.

"What?", he asked. They trudged past the school –empty and dejected –and started up a steep slope which would bring them halfway to Naruto's apartment-complex.

"Why we're all here", the brunette answered. Gaara assumed it was a theological question. He found he had no answer. Still staring at the sky he thought it through carefully.

"We're here…", he began, "because we choose to be. We may not control when or where we are born or to whom, but we can control whether we stay or not. So, we are here by choice." Shikamaru was silent for a long while and they left the slope behind them and continued forward towards _Kage Hill _which rose before them in the distance, half-shadow in the darkening evening-light.

"So there's no greater purpose?", he finally asked. Gaara an answer ready:

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." He said slowly. "We can only guess at that. But the reason why you and I are here is because we choose to. Perhaps that choice is part of a greater purpose, perhaps it's not."

"So", said Shikamaru broodingly, "why _did_ we choose to stay?" Gaara lit a cigarette.

"Well…", he said , exhaling the first lungful, "the alternative is worse. Or at least, we don't know if it's better. I suppose our existence have never been miserable enough for us to find out." Shikamaru snorted.

"Good point", he said and lit a smoke of his own, "but I'll bet that as soon as life seems peachy for the first time we'll die, one way or another."

"Peachy?", Gaara smiled, "I doubt I'll ever use 'peachy' to describe my situation", he let the smile turn into a smirk, "any particular reason that you're contemplating suicide?"

"Troublesome…", Shikamaru muttered, "how are things with Hyuuga by the way?" Gaara contemplated his answer. They had reached the foot of _Kage Hill _and were walking alongside it towards the monument.

"Interesting", he said finally. Shikamaru looked up at the skies again.

"No shit.", Said the brunette. There was a pause and then: "some of them are worried about you, you know." Gaara raised one of his thin eyebrows.

"Naruto you mean?", he asked. Shikamaru fell silent for a while.

"And others", he answered at last, "Ino and Sakura were too…", for a few minutes, the only sounds were those of their shoes patting against the ground and their exhales of nicotine smoke. Gaara felt a growing unease, knowing that several of his friends seemed to think that he was both naïve and vulnerable. Then Shikamaru continued: "I talked to Ino. Said you can take care of yourself." Gaara felt a wave of fondness towards the brunette. At least someone had faith in his abilities. He mulled it over a while; that also explained the sudden mood-swings of his more spirited friends.

"I appreciate it", he told Shikamaru. The brunette, who was still staring upwards, replied:

"You can right?" Gaara felt a smirk fighting to crawl onto his face, but kept it under control.

"I'll let you know if I'm in over my head."

"Good."

They reached the monument. _Kage Columns _was once the pride of Konohagakure, until the _Kage Heads _were cut out of North Mountain. In a previous era the city was ruled by a _Hokage_, an elder or authority of the people. In the words of modern civilisation: somewhat like a mayor. During this period the country was in general disarray and even suffered several civil wars, all of which were led by people much like the Hokages. This was, in a way, the foundation of the current society since the constant perilous wars and insecure situation spurred the union of the provinces under an emperor for the first time in nearly four hundred years.

That was long ago, however, and in this day and age the remaining monuments from this era were sparse; _Kage Columns_ was the only one in their area. The _Kage Heads_ were a much later contraption built mainly to draw tourists –though it was said to be a 'celebration of the city's origins' –and portrayed the five most renowned Hokages. The _Kage Columns_, however, was an authentic piece of architecture from the time of the Kages. Originally it had been the largest structure in the old version of Konohagakure and had housed the audience-rooms and offices of the Hokages and their advisors. Though as with all historical monuments, time had taken its toll and the old building had slowly been reduced to the stone pillars on which it was built –and even they had started giving way to Mother Nature, several of them had tumbled down or crumbled to pieces.

As such, _Kage Columns _was now but a historical attraction made up of white columns, only about half of which were still standing, which spread up the slope from the feet of _Kage Hill_. Below, right where the first pillars stood, a square as ancient as the monument –and quite frankly a part of the monument when asking authorities –extended from the hill. This square was hugged closely by the surrounding buildings and the weathered stones were usually indiscernible in the day for all the stands and wagons belonging to the tourist market. In the evening however, like now, the high-price-low-quality goods were gone and replaced by slightly more pleasant stands selling traditional Japanese food and beverages as well as masks, kimonos and a number of things you would expect at an old shrine.

They both bought a cup of tea from one of the stands and then trudged up the pathways of the monument, crossing between the pillars in the semi-darkness with a confidence and accuracy that come only with many years of practice. The Columns were open to public and fee-free, meaning that all the youths of West Konoha knew them well. Gaara, who lived a good distance away, had explored the monument in later years when he befriended Naruto, who regarded the monument like a very public backyard.

They found a good spot halfway up the hill and sat down on rubble from one of the pillars. From there they could see all the way to the distant lights of Konoha East and it was secluded from the fare of stumbling tourists trying to conquer the historic place in the dark.

They sat there for a long time and watched the sun dive behind the mountains until no light remained from its rays. It had never struck Gaara before how comfortable friendship could be, how silent, how effortless. He had always viewed it as a race of thoughts, talk and knowledge, thrown between two counterparts until they were too exhausted to continue. With Shikamaru, however, every snag seemed to melt away into the nothingness of the horizon.

'_Perhaps this is what they mean when they say "birds of a feather"… it's entirely different to spend time with someone similar to yourself. Then again, a life with only my kind of people would be terribly boring. It may be that's why they say "opposites attract", and it may be that's why our small circle of friends are all so very different. Then again, you must always have something in common with a friend, or else your friendship will be a void farce… Besides, I think way too much when I'm with Shikamaru.'_

* * *

In the end they didn't have the strength to walk back in the dark, but called Temari to come get them. She was unusually nice about it, which Gaara concluded was because of Shikamaru, his sister had had a weak-spot for the boy ever since she realised that he, aside from always helping Gaara and Naruto with various things, seemed to have the same taste in books as her. When she had showed up to drive Gaara home from a party once, they spent a good half-hour discussing Nietzsche and Voltaire.

Hence, they reached Gaara's house during the few dark hours of the summer nights and muttered their goodbyes by Shikamaru's car. The redhead turned to walk inside just as Shikamaru said:

"Hey", Gaara turned back, "thanks." Gaara smiled slightly.

"Come over whenever you feel like it", he answered, "or whenever you need to think about something else." Shikamaru's eyes turned sharp and Gaara knew he was considering all plausible and non-plausible reasons for the red-head's concern. Finally the brunette relaxed and smiled back, reaching –Gaara assumed –the conclusion that he had simply made a caring comment to a friend. Which was, in all honesty, mostly true.

"You're a good friend, Gaara", he said and opened the door to the car. Gaara turned once more and wandered towards his home.

'_Yeah… and coincidentally being a good friend is sometimes in my best interest.'_

* * *

Konohagakure's Opera was grand, lascivious and practically screamed of refined class and wealth. Located on the western riverbank in the northern parts of central its impressive structure towered over the northern bridge and the multiple restaurants, art galleries, exclusive cafés and sophisticated bars which crowded around it like children round an especially large and sparkly Christmas-tree. The entrance hall was impressively huge and decorated with chandeliers, abstract art and a number of settees, armchairs and chaises in antique style. Combined with the wide marble staircases and the glimmering of diamonds, rustling of taffeta and velvet and squeaking of high-price shoes on the polished floors it made the atmosphere overwhelming.

He silently thanked Ino and Naruto for their insistence on dressing him in clothing worthy of the occasion. He felt less vulnerable knowing that his dress-shirt was of exclusive Rokubi Saiken design, picked out by Ino for complementing his eye-colour, and even though he had left the matching jacket at home, his onyx trousers were of equal quality. Naruto had spent forty minutes working through his hair, and another twenty to apply coal around his eyes since, apparently, Gaara's usual make-up wasn't quite good enough. On top of that they had insisted he take out his piercing and exchange his usual leather-strap necklace for a heavy chain in silver which Temari had given him for his seventeenth birthday. As a last rebellious act –a vain try to contain the illusion that he was in charge –he refused to wear a jacket and tie and didn't tuck the shirt in as Ino maintained he should.

Despite that, it had been worth it just to see Neji's eyes gleam and hear his smooth compliments. Gaara felt a nervous tingling spread through his body. As always with Neji he felt like he was constantly tense and relaxed at the same time. They made their way across the wide floor, Neji nodding politely in greeting to someone every now and then. Gaara was about to ask where they were heading when Neji snagged to flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and steered them into a corridor towards a smaller staircase.

"Before the performance you're supposed to socialise and modestly boast about your wealth through clothing, jewellery and badly-disguised hints", he said in his low, melodious voice, handing one of the flutes to the redhead as they climbed the stairs, "but I've always found it a dreadfully tiring custom." Gaara chuckled.

"I can't imagine why", he answered dryly and took a carful sip. They turned a corner and started up another set of steps, "you seem to know your way around", he commented. Neji smiled wryly.

"I've been here many times", he paused, "and not all of them has been pleasant evenings with guaranteed entertainment. If you're twelve and find the performance of your uncle's violinist-prodigy and not-so-secret lover dull beyond compare you'll find that you can learn a lot about a building by 'getting lost' on your way back from the restroom." They reached the top of the stairs at the same time as Gaara started laughing. Thinking back, he had never truly laughed in Neji's company since he had always been too alert and high-strung, but this time he really couldn't help himself. The image of twelve-year old Neji who sulkily stalked around in the majestic opera-house to avoid listening to two hours' worth of violin was way too entertaining.

The brunette turned to look at him and for the first time Gaara saw him with a completely open expression, a genuine smile and truly humoured eyes looking down on him. It only lasted for a moment; when Gaara laughed and Neji smiled and they both realised they had let their guard down. Still, even when they had both returned to normal and retreated behind the guise of the game the air around them was lighter and more relaxed than before.

Neji led them to the end of a hallway where it opened up to form a small room. They had reached one of the higher floors and the design had turned modernistic with plain white walls and dark floors. The space they had reached was sparsely furnished in the same way, a few unadorned chairs and sofas and some green plants, but the far wall was made completely out of huge glass windows, giving the room a view of the bridge and the river. What drew Gaara's attention, however, was not the view but a large canvas –the only decorative piece in the room –which hung on the bleached wall to the right. He discarded his glass of champagne and closed in on it without really thinking, letting his eyes roam freely across details; shades, contrasts, dimension and the forceful feeling in the strokes… Gaara was no artist, nor had he any particular interest in paintings or photography, but he knew a brilliant piece when he saw one.

Strong horses, white and grey, were thundering through the painting towards him. Each carried on their back a woman who, though very fair and graceful, wore the armour of a warrior on stout shoulders and carried a spear or a sword in strong hands. They were charging through a dark, thick forest of spruce and pine-trees with moss-covered rocks and rushing streams and the darkness made their light skin and silver hair shine with an unearthly glow. On their heads were helmets with horns on each side, on their faces expressions of ruthless determination and in the darkness behind them you could make out the shadow of a hooded figure with the silhouettes of two birds on his shoulders, and gleaming eyes in the silhouettes of two wolves by his feet.

"Beautiful isn't it?", Neji's voice startled him, so caught up had he been in the artwork before him. The man had closed in on him while he studied the painting and he could feel the man less than a foot from his back.

"_Ride of the Valkyries_", he answered thoughtfully, "it is… exceptional." Neji hummed in agreement.

"An artist as well?", Gaara smirked, his eyes still on the painting.

"No", he answered, "I appreciate beautiful things. I don't paint, but I can still love a painting, I don't play, sing or write music but I can still love listening to a piece and I don't write poetry but I can still love reading a poem." Neji chuckled and he felt the older man leaning in.

"That makes two of us", Neji breathed in his ear. A curtain of silky brown hair fell to rest on his shoulder. Silent tension gripped them. He felt his heartbeats escalate and his air pipe contract, refusing him the privilege to breathe. Then the brunette pulled away and the magic of the moment vanished along with the invisible bonds that held him in place. He drew a shaky breath. If there was one advantage Neji had in the game it was his superior experience in physical and emotional relationships. The question had been: how aware was the older man of Gaara's lack of such? With all probability, he had just given that away.

"We should be on our way, or it'll begin without us", Neji said smoothly. He nodded.

* * *

The performance was exquisite. Even as they rose from their seats Gaara was filled with a mix of awe and contentment and a lingering sense of inspiration clung to his mind. There was a reason that he whenever he needed to focus listened to classical music or operas; they left him feeling intelligent and aware, alive and in control. As they exited out into the corridor leading back to the entrée however, Neji steered him to the side and into a smaller hallway with a light touch on his arm, effectively diminishing the ruse the opera had left in his head.

"Avoid the social leeches", he murmured in the redhead's ear. Gaara smiled. As they drew farther away from the crowd and turned a corner he replied:

"I thought you enjoyed social games with the elite?"

"Usually, yes", Neji had yet to remove his hand from Gaara's arm; it was warm and sent a tingling sensation across his skin, "but tonight I have more interesting company to pass my time." He smiled down at the redhead. Gaara raised one thin eyebrow. They reached a secluded part of the building and Neji let go of his arm to open a mahogany door which led to an extravagant bathroom. Along one side ran a marble counter with six hand-basins carved into it, each with a brass tap glimmering in the soft light from the lamps. Opposite it were a number of cubicles of polished wood with brass handles and in the corner was a giant plant with large, green leaves and beautiful, creamy white flowers. Neji turned one of the taps and let the water envelop his hands.

"This is an exclusive restroom for VIPs", he said to the redhead, "sorry to pull you away but there were some people I'd rather not meet." He turned the water off and faced the other, leaning against the counter.

"So even you have people you'd like to avoid", Gaara remarked.

"Me more than anyone." Gaara snorted.

"Social leeches", he repeated with laughter threatening to bubble up through his throat. The brunette smirked and in one fluid movement pushed himself of the counter and eradicated the gap between them in two quick strides. The redhead felt his heart rate pick up again as Neji slid a hand into his hair and crushed his lips against Gaara's.

If there was one thing he was absolutely sure of it was that he would never get used to kissing Hyuuga Neji. There was no way that the sensation of shaped lips against his and a skilled tongue exploring his mouth would ever become dull or repetitive. The sinful toxic of the older man had already hooked him and he knew that if he did not watch out he would come to crave those kisses; that he would long for them as he already longed for the thrilling games the man provided.

"Truthfully", Neji said when he had broken the kiss. Their lips were still mere centimetres apart. "My real intention was to find a secluded place." Gaara felt a rush of exhilaration and the panic of being in too deep in waters he knew little of. Alarmed he searched for a pillar to hold on to, a rule or a motto to keep by, but found none. Instead he forcefully made his mind resolute.

'_No matter experience, I won't let him lead this. If I do, I've already lost."_

It was a chilling realisation. He had known it from the moment when they were standing before the painting. Neji had found his most apparent, and possibly most deadly, weakness. The situation right now proved it; the man would exploit this weakness until he had crushed the redhead. Like every war the game is fought through constant threats and several violent battles –moments when two wills clashes and the board is tilted in favour of one or the other. This was one such moment, their first, and perhaps most important one. They had come close before but this time it was for real, and it was time for Gaara to lay the first stone in the foundation of his game. For Neji, playing was done from the moment he met someone to the time he defeated them, he slowly wore them down with increasing efficiency. He also assumed, as one often does, that all others acted the same. Gaara did not, however. His game was based on the skills of patience, knowledge, intuition, deceit and agonisingly slow and thought-through manoeuvres. When the precise time had come, whether it came in a week or twenty years, he delivered a series of severe blows and finished off the opponent. Due to this, the current moment was crucial. Not because he had to win it, but because he had to control his loss.

Swiftly making his decision, he smirked at his adversary.

"Well isn't that thoughtful of you." He leaned in and pressed his lips firmly against Neji's, letting his hands wander up to grab auburn locks. Neji answered immediately, one hand still tangled in Gaara's hair he curled his arm around the redhead's slim waist and pulled him closer until Gaara felt like there was no part of him not touching the other. He opened his mouth to receive Neji's skilful tongue, his eyes closed shut to enhance every sensation. However, despite the heat in his veins and the pleasure creeping up his spine when Neji's nimble hand slipped under his shirt to caress his back, he didn't lose his head. His mind supplied him with something Naruto had told him long ago:

"_Kissing is like a battle of wills and the tongues are the soldiers. I always make sure to lose only when I want to." _

Such simple-minded way to view a kiss. Perfect. He delved into Neji's mouth with that single thought in mind, trying with all he had to win a ferocious battle of wills that did not exist. Neji, radiating amusement, retorted by letting the hand on Gaara's back travel downwards, gripping his arse and pushing their groins together. Electricity seemed to discharge from the point of impact, his member resonating immediately. Neji suddenly abandoned their tug of war at the lips; tilting Gaara's head using the hand in his hair he grazed the smaller man's neck with his teeth. Deciding to give in –for a little while –Gaara groaned and let his own hands fall from Neji's hair to his back, then under his shirt, exploring flawless skin with his fingertips. The brunette was not idle, whilst altering between kisses and bites at his neck he let the hand in Gaara's hair wander from red curls to his groin.

That split second when he realised that the brunette's pale fingers were unbuttoning and his trousers seemed to freeze in time completely. It was the sort of turning-point-moment when you realise that whatever's happening is actually going down, and to stop you have to make a much greater effort than it would take to just leave it be. Gaara let it happen, let Neji trace a path along his pelvis and dip beneath the line of his boxers.

Neji's soft hand closed around him, the chill of colder skin on his heated member causing a sort of involuntary twitch to run through his limbs. Cognisant still of what he was doing, but unable to control it, Gaara let his head fall to rest in the crook of the brunette's neck, eyes closing in bliss as the skilful hand stroked him languidly. He was vaguely aware that Neji had freed him completely and that the cold air of the bathroom assaulted his cock, but it was soon forgiven as Neji picked up the pace, alternating between long and short thrusts with his hand and every now and then sliding up to run a finger over the redhead's slit, already slick with pre-cum. He gritted his teeth against the breathy moans and gasps escaping from his treacherous throat, his fingers gripping the taller man's shoulders for support. Neji answered by letting his other hand slip down the small of his back, ghost across the crease of his ass, still half-covered by his boxers, and lightly play across his skin.

He could feel himself getting closer, the fierce pleasure building up inside him dizzied him and he was grateful to see only the darkness of his eyelids. While one hand assaulted his erection the other kept teasing his backside and Neji's magical mouth was working a trail of bites and kisses along his collarbone. When he felt that he was on the verge of coming he made a last effort of pure will, snapping his eyes wide open and reaching up to tug Neji's head back by the hair. In a brief instant their gazes locked on one another before Gaara crashed their lips together and came.

* * *

Very little is ever said in tales or books or movies of that moment after your soul-crushing/soaring experience. Little is ever told about the void following the high or the rushing relief and adrenalin which comes when the obstacle is overcome. When the white had cleared from Gaara's vision he was in one of those moments. A feeling of awkwardness jumbled with embarrassment and the relaxed, peaceful yet spent state which follows an orgasm. Usually, this would be a mutual mood, but since Neji was still quite dressed, coherent and in control Gaara had to shoulder it alone, which only doubled the effect.

Still, there was little he could do about that, he decided. He hadn't forced Neji to jack him off any more than the brunette could force him to retaliate. Which he had no intention of doing. Instead he took it in stride, for such was the game when you played on the other's field –you could hardly expect victory, but rather you may settle for an honourable defeat. So Gaara put his clothes in order without moving from the uncomfortably close proximity they shared, and then stared up into the milky mercury eyes of Hyuuga Neji.

"As nice as this is", he whispered huskily, "it's getting late." Neji sneaked both arms around his waist and pulled him even closer; pressing his crotch into the brunette's still semi-erect member.

"So it is", Neji agreed and kissed him languidly.

"So…", Gaara said, "I should be getting home." Neji chuckled.

"You're probably right." He let go of the redhead's waist and stepped back. "It's a shame though." Gaara decided not to comment lest he got himself into more trouble.

* * *

They washed up and made themselves presentable once more –Gaara needing the most work – before leaving the bathroom. The silence between them was one that was neither awkward nor pleasant, but simply a lull of conversation caused by two people deep in thought. What Neji was considering, Gaara was far from guessing, but neither did he have to. He felt hollow satisfaction simmering in his chest, the product of losing a battle yet winning an advantage. The brunette, he was nearly certain, was currently filled with the pleasant warmth of triumph on two fronts. Neji saw ahead of him the road to complete victory over the redhead, since as of today he had both noticed Gaara's great weakness and confirmed it by exploiting the gap in the younger man's defence.

'_Let him think that'_, thought Gaara smugly, _'as long as he believes he knows my Achilles' heel and focuses on that, I am free to build my own game… little by little.'_

Still, as nice as that sounded, his plan –hastily constructed when he had to face Neji's superior experience with sex –had two unmistakable flaws. First: he knew Neji was far too practiced and clever a player to fall for an easy diversion, and second: it relied on his ability to ignore all plays made against that one weakness, which was disturbingly real.

Gaara did have a disadvantage and a dip in self-confidence whenever his sexual practices were involved. This made it a convincing deception, but it could also be turned on him to become a devastating defeat. To top it off, he had to make it more credible by leading Neji on, by acting like he was trying to win a battle in which he had no experience and to be arrogant even in defeat. _If_ he could manage to get Neji so fixed on playing a game of sex and intimacy that he paid less notice to his surroundings, he had a chance of bringing the brunette down, but if he lost himself in the game it would be instant death. A risky play, and a play based on willpower alone. He had wanted to avoid this kind of conflict, but he had been driven into a corner, and this was the only way out.

'_I sound as if he's Goliath and I'm David… Honestly. My self-esteem must have taken a hit from all of this...'_, he knew he should stop going along at Neji's pace, only doing damage-control. Still, it made him uneasy to think of taking control in this strange relationship. Especially since Neji was so much… more than him. He mentally shook himself, cursing at whatever part of his brain that had started to act as an adolescent school-girl. He was a man after all, and a gamer –and as long as it was a game he had no issues with confidence.

They had reached the car by the time he had won the battle against his more emotional self. He slid into the passenger seat, contemplating his choice of words while Neji started the car and drove smoothly from the opera. In the end, it took him most of the journey home to decide what action to take, and anticipate all possible consequences of that action. When they reached his house he had a conversation fully planned in his head. The car stilled and Neji looked expectantly at him. Had he been a lesser man –or woman –and had he not been so immersed in his game, his relationship with the brunette would have played out as that very night had. Whenever Neji felt like giving him a call he would happily oblige to be the one clinging to his arm for the evening, but he would never make any demands of his own, simply spend his days mooning over what he couldn't have.

'_Well thank goodness that I haven't transformed to _that_… Yet.'_, chilled by the knowledge of how close to the edge of submission he was, he promised himself to work more diligently on not being caught in Neji's net.

"Well", he said pleasantly, "thank you for tonight…", Neji raised an eyebrow in amusement, smirk firmly in place, before Gaara continued: "next time it'll be my treat." The double interpretation of his words made Neji smirk even wider.

"Oh, really?", he said in the low, smouldering voice that made Gaara's logical thoughts turn to mushy nothings.

"Yes", answered the redhead decisively, "Thursday night?", there was a squirming creature of unease in his chest which he promptly ignored. No use feeling insecure now. Neji adapted a face of speculation, leaving the creature to wiggle around for a good while whilst Gaara schooled his face to look unperturbed.

"Thursday is fine", said the brunette at last, "but it will have to be after eight, I'm afraid. My uncle won't appreciate me taking an early evening two times in one week." Gaara tried not to feel too relieved that he had not been rejected. _'The game'_, he reminded himself. He smirked as confidently as he could with his nerves on end.

"Good. Nine o'clock?", Neji's eyes glinted.

"Sounds perfect."

"Meet me by… the old university gates.", Gaara said, it felt both thrilling and terrifying to suddenly gain a sliver of control in the strange duo. Neji's slim eyebrows rose high and the amusement in his expression became more pronounced than ever.

"Old university district, hm? I suppose I can't persuade you to tell me where we're going?", Gaara grinned smugly.

"An eye for an eye, you didn't tell me about the restaurant.", Neji hummed. Relinquishing the tension he had been keeping since they entered the car, Gaara reached for the handle to the door and turned to say goodnight. Faster than he could recognise, Neji's hand had buried itself in his hair.

"You're forgetting something", breathed the brunette and crashed their lips together.

Most of the night, Gaara had been on his guard both physically and mentally, but this time he knowingly let himself go and enjoyed the kiss for all it was worth. For no matter how exciting the game was, it was not all that drew him to the other man, and no matter how little he wanted to admit it, the heated kiss roused something in his that had nothing to do with either schemes or victory.

* * *

**A/N: Two small things before you review:**

**One: Quick Q&A:  
nlsdn5 asked about the school system in the fic. I decided to go with the schoolsystem of my own country, meaning that you finish high-school the year of your 19****th**** birthday. Hence, if you start immediately after high school you would finish your first year of university the year of your 20****th**** birthday and so on(Unless you take a year or more off in between) Sorry for not explaining that earlier folks ^^' and thank you nlsdn5 for pointing it out. ((Also, I've studied Italian but I'm not fluent, and I love the language too :D))**

**I'd love to answer each or your reviews personally, but ff has forbidden answering in the fics(and I totally understand why) and my internet is so fucked up that I can't answer the usual way, but know that I read and love them:)**

**(****PLEASE READ****) Two: This fic takes place in a made-up version of Japan(it seemed appropriate since they… have Japanese names..) HOWEVER, the cities are(obviously) not actual places but fictional ones from the manga Naruto(which I do not own), in a similar manner the historic background of this fic is not related to, nor in any way based on, Japanese history(as anyone with a slight interest in history would know) but has been made up by me with inspiration and influence from the manga Naruto(which I do not own) as well as European history(which no-one owns… well apart from the European people as a whole and… oh fuck it. I made it up. There! End note.)**

* * *

_Nietzsche _– Friedrich Nietzsche(1844 – 1900), German author and philosopher with main focus on religion, existence of god and the state.

_Voltaire –_ Pen-name for François-Marie Arouet(1694 – 1778), French writer and philosopher who played a major role during the French revolution and the Enlightenment.

_Ride of the Valkyries _– (Originally _Walkürenritt/Ritt der Walküren_)A classical piece from the beginning of act three in _Richard Wagner_'s opera _Die Walküre_.

_Valkyries_ – (Old Norse: _Valkyrja_) In Norse mythology they are the warrior maidens who collect the men who die valiantly in battle and bring them to _Valhalla_. They are often associated with the god _Odin_.

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**Don't forget to REVIEW my dears! Or else Little Chibi Ino shall throw shoes at you –or worse: Little Chibi Shikamaru shall ask you disturbing answer-less questions on life!**


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